Note: I am writing this post out of extreme hatred. I never thought I would.

My class is demarcated. As widely as it can be. Not a fine thin line between two groups but a huge Mediterranean sea. No ships, no helicopters. Do you know what that means? Nobody crosses any boundaries. And now I’ll regurgitate: My class has been demarcated for the last two years and it’s consistently been running its third year marathon.

Now may I describe the two groups?

Group A: The one that sits as closest to the Professor as possible but fails to stand under the spotlight for a second. These retards wear the world’s ugliest clothes and shoes. Sometimes they make me wonder whatever went wrong with the brain function that helps us choose right from wrong. First ones to submit all assignments, bottom down the scoring list. And God has shunned their pathetic little lives so far from his business that he makes utter mockery of democracy. He proves that he does not love all his children equally. And that he will always favour the prettiest and the smartest. All the Anna supporting people who cried, “What happened to Democracy?” Democracy is a myth my friends. They are still stuck in their favourite backstreet boy era with their amateurish guitar skills. This group has never tasted limelight. And if they ever did before you could say, "ohh crap!wtf?" they are back to their disgusting little lives. They are so invisible that it will make you wonder if they have Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak shrouded on them or not. Not joking. They are the backdrop.

Group B: Why doesn’t it surprise you when I type that this group has the prettier, smarter, heavily accentuated Beverly Hill-ish people? If they are judging you, their judgments will burn your skin and roast your flesh. They have the most expensive birthday parties thrown in the coolest clubs of all. They will marry within their group and raise hauntingly nasty children like themselves. They are the editors, the heads, the celebrated ones of every Society. Protect me if you can because they are also the ones who blog. They suck all the fun of the city to their lives leaving none for others with their super popular vacuum and despite this they prove their intelligence. Either it is multi-tasking or well, the more obvious fact: God IS biased. They own you. You don’t have a life. When you talk, they scrutinize your life, your family, your words. If you crack a joke, they will prove it to you that your joke as your life, is completely “redundant”. I quoted the word, did you see that? They are ingrate if you ever helped them and think they will remember your unpopular name. Don’t wish to be their friend, you don’t stand a chance. Do you know why? They are cool and popular and you with you twisted little life don’t even share the same pedestal. Rule 1# They do not talk to Group A. If they do, heaven will fall lose and mad men will run free. They are snobs. They’re the crowd, mingling with only the other cool people.

You maybe wondering where my loyalties lie. I don’t know. I wasn’t biologically trained to function either way. Then you might be wondering if there is a third group, perhaps? No, there isn’t. Either you are cool or you are not. My life in Delhi has been brief but my descriptions about the demarcation is perfection. I am writing this out of extreme revolt like I said. So much repugnance in my guts that I slept all morning and afternoon lest I wake up to break anything valuable. What? Don’t judge. I have my own idiosyncratic moments. I had written it down in my memory ages ago and I choose to only type down my memory today. I am not angry at any group per se. I am just exhausted. I am sorry if I have hurt any sentiment but you have issues that you need to deal with.

Because everything is so amazing!

I have been wondering what to blog about for a really long time. Today I found out what annoys me. PMS-ing people among other things of course.

There's this whole crowd of them around me. They take 25 minutes to stand up. 1 hour to walk to the canteen which is by the way not in Connecticut. Ohh bummer they will also whine to an extent that you'll be so annoyed that you'll stealthily move out of that crowd before God rips off your life-contract out of sheer disgust!

Don't touch me.

It's paining.

Don't talk to me.

Leave her alone. She's PMS-ing.

Worse. Leave HIM alone, he's PMS-ing.

Aww. It'll be okhay. Aww.

Aww. Aww. Aww.

And someone or the other keeps PMS-ing all the time! Whatever happened to normal periods?

Whatever's next? No, I cannot understand people anymore.

To be away from such a vexatious throng I attended this all-night concert. We lay on the rocks as it rained and the breeze swept the grains of sand swiftly, with little leaves getting lost in my hair (you know why). It was nice. It was seamless like those things you don't talk about but only witness. And it's tranquility gave me little goosebumps the whole night. We listened to flute and I wish it wouldn't stop because it was transcendental, and I forgave the annoying little twits for the whole night!

60 billion problems. Then add three more.

I have a lot of problems in my life. Enough for me to drown myself in Whiskey everyday.

For instance, my new phone brings me agonizing pain. Before I pour out my wrath and then you read it and say to yourself "yea, weird girl." I acknowledge that very fact. Thank you very much.

So my phone is not stone age and I am in the stone age phase right now and I am unlikely to ever bring myself in terms with that QWERTY keypad. My fingertips are too huge for the puny keys. I don't know why it's the prevailing fashion. Next, I couldn't find a drafts folder so where the hell am I going to save the sms-es that I wish to send to God? This whole issue upsets me so much that I just leave that damned electronic object inside my drawer refusing to receive calls. Finally, I WANT MY STONE AGE DEVICES BACK.

Then I turn on MTV and just my luck- Splitsvilla is on. Those sappy little bastards that never stop quarrelling. And I want to shout at the top pf my voice "Just teach those godforsaken loonies some elementary Grammar and kindergarten sentence formation teachnique! And then banish them from my sight." I weep because humans aren't supposed to be sorely preposterous. They exude infinite stupidity and that is intercepted by other human brains yea and now you know how it's a disease.

Thirdly, I am back home and I want to devour all the television programmes specially Travel and Living shows and they dubbed everything in Hindi. Why? I hate to see those people speak in cartoon-voices and crack cartoon-jokes and sometimes speak English words in heavily accentuated cartoon-pronunciations. When I was a kid Cartoon Network and Anime got dubbed in Hindi and the attack will never be terminated.

A lot of problems. Because I'm just so fucking brilliant that mediocre doesn't satiate my soul.


P.S.- When I refreshed the blog page I just realized that New Year is this close. Yet another spoiler. I had to edit the post. I had to add this bit. 2011 is going to be worse that 2010 because all my best friends are in 3rd year. Well not all. The ones I hang out with in the evening, the one who know how to start fun, who go backpacking, who quarrel incessantly and forget instantly, who(most importantly) get on my nerves less than the others do, who are cool (in the actual sense of it), who share troubles, pain and food, who are not misers, who bear my excruciating presence (thank you!). My true Bohemian partners, they will be gone and I will be a goner. I dedicate this post to the Lonely 2011 and best friends. Cheers!

A Megaloath post for the megaabhorred. (Hate is cliched)

Grand Finale of Masterchef India(or whatever) and who is the guest judge? Katrina Kaif who does what she's best at- looking good. And what do we see? People dancing to the painfully pathetic songs (which is a big hit by the way) that make my ears bleed. The contestants also swoon over her repeatedly and apparently it is a dream coming true for them. A music competition and we always have actors (sorry?) to judge. An athletic championship, dance show, just name it the actors always grab the limelight and actors with no acting skills whatsoever. Just let the wannabe actors do their job? I mean "look good" and say " I have lots of offers coming to me but I just want to focus on this one movie right now?"
What movie?
"Road mein ghayal." Or "Chastity- kahani ek auraat ki". Hold on, "Oolta love story".
And what's the peppy song?
"Ghashiram ka mucch"( if Sheila has jawani, Ghashi can have his own song, can't he?)
No, it's a tie actually between "Sanjana ke baal" (yea it sounded different in my head) and "Ghashiram ke mucch". Almost anything goes huh? So long the famished and highly imbecilic Indian population can afford a ticket to Sangam theatre. (Note: For cheap movies try Sangam instead of PVR, rickshaw wala population but it's better than shredding your money in a fit, correct?)
And then one fine day I'll come back, very beat, will want to drop dead in my bed but what do I see? My roommate swinging her legs and humming "Sheila ki jawani" NO, DON'T SING THAT SONG NOT EVEN FOR FUN! I don't care if your beanpole of a scraggy face shrivels up even more.

My point is, why are the actors and cricketers so important in India? Nobody cares about anybody else. And the actors in question are those that prance about naked and act like dummies and engage into several altercations with other actors or join a political party when they have nothing else to do. The good actors are hardly a part of the showbiz and why? Because they don't dance to item numbers or have the pretty face. How many of us think Rahul Bose or Rajat Kapoor are good? *raises her hand* and SRK? 50 million hands, like I did not see that one coming so I'll feign a surprised look and hold the "du'h" sign. All he does is bleat like a goat (yea his hackneyed style with special effects, tell me about it)in most movies minus two. Why would we have Amitabh Bacchan to host a brain game? I am not saying that he's a doofus( I don't know if he is) but why not Neil O'Brian or Arindam Bose? For the cook shows why not Aditya Baal? For the music show why can't only the musicians judge the freaking show? It's not as if the famous actors we are talking about act the Richard-Gere-style or Jim-Carrey-style(for comedians). It's not like the funny movies give you the hangover, Hangover style.
Good hair? Check.
Good face? Check.
Can dance? Check.
Can't act? Check.
Controversies? Check.
And we have the ingredients of a famous Bollywood actor.

Now even the beauty pageants are filling up the fissures. I mean beauty pageants are beauty pageants so just sit there, wear your crown, wave your hand and look pretty. Don't start acting please? And models? Just keep walking the damned fashion ramp and when the going gets tough, keep going. I have this one nerve left, don't bludgeon it to death.

And now five hoots for Masterchef Australia. Go go go Adam!

I must prove my superiority.

You flick on their head and the hollowness within it echoes back.
They sleep when you want the lights on and they listen to music loudly when you want it off.
They leave their hair all over the place.
They think YOU are an alien when they're too base for even alien camps to let them in.
They talk. They never stop and that shrill voice rings through your ears till your brain hurts.
And when they shriek while talking on phone(ohh, by the way they're always on phone) the blob in your head that the doctors have diagnosed to be a cancerous tumour bursts and you get cured miraculously.
They're insecure. VERY insecure and they must tell the person on the other end of the phone the colour of their nail paint and occasionally they quip in "Haye Teddy, I love you baby!"

Then they face my judgemental eyes the ones that produce loathsome-laser beams and then they say "Haye shits this girl is a lonely bitch!"

Who are they? Hint: Starts with R ends with E and has OOMAT in between.

Disclaimer: The descriptions may not be right in several cases. In fact, it may be the other way round in your case

I had to ransack my brain to guess my password because the last time I logged in here,was when I just began college,and
I'm on the verge of passing my first year now(I think).My college has a psuedo crowd,who likes you because you wore oh-so-
pretty a dress or because you've got oh-so-fake an accent,because you know a lot of people there who're like you,no matter
how dumb she/he maybe.Not cool.At all.They're all little barbie dolls.Secretly,I hate most.I DO NOT understand the way
cash spirals out of control.Now I have it,now I don't.The more I get to know humanity,the more I hate it.There's this
place,I call it Romantic because you have no idea,how it feels to be there alone at night,though I'm never alone there.
It's got a cheap burger selling restaurant on one side(it's my patent right to be there)and a railway track underneath.
The burger sellers know my face I think and have a strong feeling that I'm going to order a Don Burger.Funny name,yes.I
am a part of this music society,they're strong willed people,when they say practise,it means,practise till your throat
bleeds and your mind screams of boredom.I know my sentences are random but not that a serial post would matter much.
I went backpacking with a few people who have no sense of security whatsoever.But I liked it,it felt like I were a pauper.
Cold slices of leftover pizza for dinner.Unhealthy.The bus,utterly desolate,windows rattling like dentures of men who
are a century old,a rod in front you,which hits your head,the moment you fall asleep,free AC service even when unwanted...
pretty different from my luxurious trips with family.I have travelled alone for a quite a few times now and got immensely
bored all the time.Some unseen force seems to plan my trip with really retarded co-passengers.If it's a train,they'll be
old people,if it's a flight,they'll be sleepy foreigners.How much does it cost to just give a talkable handsome man?Ohh,
that reminds me that my room mate who's not exactly the brightest bulb around has a boy friend who texts her incessently.
Most of the time,she's in the next room in the Stupid Meet Of The Day(it's a very important meeting) and the SMS alert is
a whole song from God-knows-what movie.I think she's got a lop-sided face.My best friends are two dorks from a different
planet.A'right.Bye.

An important notice:I'm in college,so screw them who refer me to as 'the kid'.Hard to accept or whatever OR whatever!Plus point is,I might not eventually emerge as the 'she goes bi the way'.It doesn't come 'that' close to the paradise I always wanted to be in,blame the polls,yea somehow it's related with the figures that ruined my life.I should have seen that coming and switched over to CBSE.I wallow in self-pity,self-pity because I worked hard and I'm more fucked up than all of us together.Those who have the feeling of vengeance and [now]accomplishment are happy[I pray that you all end up with bloody impotents].Don't get me wrong,I'm NOT in a lousy college but I'm not in my dream-college either.
And ohh,a few days back I worte an essay somewhere about some blogosphere and narcissim and as I read my older posts,I know why I chose it over other viable options.
Sad part is,I'll have to sacrifice my niceties,fit myself and my things in a gloomy PG and fight with people for my share of oxygen.I'm not even excited anymore.Every night I plan to make a list of things I'll need and then go shopping the next day.I still am unplanned and I haven't shopped for a thing and I'm leaving on 12th.I demand my food,bed and pet!Why can't the benefits of being in a cool college co-exist with benefits of living a comfortable life?It's always been the same with me.I'll whine for something until I get it and then whine because I want to rid myself off it.Fact:I don't want to attend college.Why did you even read this post?

I made it a point to blog after I figured that my baby sister is growing up to be anything but me.And 'me' is a better option than the other 'me's in my village.This is a frustating issue for me,that she's fast turning into those I grew up hating(well...mostly all):She's being uber-idiotic.She changes the clothes of the sorority slut:Barbie dolls 10 times a day,she plays Hannah Montana and I just figured that her wardrobe shouts PINK!I know she's a kid,in my days I'd watch scoobie do,swat cats and Captain Planet and Jhonny Quest,yes.I mean those are way too presentable!Hannah Montana is okhay to watch,what's the point of playing it[read:applying make-up in her fucked up face].This is depressing!She's going to belong to the 'in crowd' soon,and the in crowd people figure out everything a decade later.
Mr.God is bigot!Murphy's Law applies to every friggin case in my life,why?What's so interesting in popping my tiny dream bubble.I mean why target me out of million others?Plus,I was in the blood donation camp last night with friends and we saw someone uber cute.This is diabolical because I have become an anti-crush machine,I'll make "^_^" faces but never seem to have a crush.WHY?
And I always seem to bump into the people I wanted to ignore all my life.They bring out the atavistic nature[refer to crude stone age emotions]in me the moment they open their mouth.Before sleeping at night,I actually stare at the mirror and prepare a set of monologues that I want to say when I see them,interestingly whenever I meet them,the ratio is always 1:6 and I look weak,my legs shake,my nerves break into convulsions,I ignore them,swallow my monologues and try to be invisible.Well,Achilles had only an ankle and my every other body part is an Achilles-ankle.And though my larynx and tongue is wholly under my discretion,I choose to shut up.
And something's really wrong with my dysfunctional family,their only topic of discussion is college.I mean whoa whoa people,I am as concerned and interested in grabbing the life that my school-people sucked out of me.Can we just not shut up for a nano-second?There's this weird and utterly dumb habit of my mother,whenever I commit an error,be it venial,she'll remind me what I did in class 4 and then in pre-kg.If there's one person,who can time travel,she SURELY can.One of these days,if I turn on the web cam and commit suicide like the many other wannabes,it won't be too surprising for anyone.I like this blog page,this is the only thing that lets me rant.

I hate humans.I really hate them.Waai?Something's terribly wrong with me.Even a Let's-lunch-together doesn't interest me.I'm a dole bledger.Waai?I want to stay at home,stare at the ceiliing until my eyes emit gamma rays,stare at every inanimated object and stay happy.Sometimes I stare at the same page of some random book for hours,I read but I don't see.Even if Jude Law had to stare at me with those sexiest eyes ever,I'd still be blank.I don't even talk,when someone's dying,I won't even want to know the cause.But I talk.to.my.dog.a.lot!So if one fine day he had to say Goodmorning,I wouldn't be surprised.I'm inactive,literally.Worse,I don't even sleep.But I know the theme songs of all the Hungama TV cartoon shows.And I keep calling Motagorilla a Motahati.It's a random character of some random cartoon.I speak only the blood diamond accent.Probably they'll start paying me the unemployment dole someday.I've become a fish,I stopped blinking altogether.It's not boredom.I like it this way.I plan to run away frequently but the choice of which clothes to carry decimates the whole plan,backed by the weather ofcourse.It rains when I don't feel romantic.Yea,humans.I hate all.The bad ones,the good ones more.And the mirror,ugh.

'Night!

Winged Invaders.

I've got invaders in my room.
They came.
They saw.
They conquered!Argh!
I have got insects all over the room,on the wall,in my milk I drink milk,yea so?One tried getting inside my eye just now!A whole family of insect on the monitor,on my book...in every friggin place but outside the room.And hell!They bite!!
Forget all non-violence!Down with all insects,and my EVE book says human population will explode the Earth.I'll bring out the intrigant girl within me and spray insecticides all over!This will be a genocidal attack.
Bwahahaha!
I'll be attacked by the paparazzi and I'll hit the headlines of the insect world.They'll kiss my feet,those damned insects and pray for their life,I'll bring the Nazism in their world.

Now I must leave the room;they already started revolting against whatever I typed now.Those godammed insects will die a painful death.Know this,sinners,Diwali isn't too far!Haw haw haw!

People Are So [IRRITATINGLY] Like That-Part 3

As if a dysfunctional family wasn't enough for me.Just last day,I and S were in the crowded market place,it was busier than it is,in a beehive.So S and I were blah-blah-ing away to glory.

S:Wanna try pizza?

Me:Nnnnnnnyessss!

S:Cakes R Us?

Me:Khay!

Then someone's hand brushed against my arm.Pretty normal,in a market.Next,the hand-guy comments something in Bong that we don't get and so we avert our eyes and thoughts.We're pretty used to, 'Hey gorgeous!','Hey blah!',Hey bleh!' So right,we keep walking and S espied from the corner of her eye that the man was still following.

Description of the fucktard:Eww!Ugly!Light coloured clothes that turned black.Ugh!

So yea,he takes the left turn and we take the right.How smart of us!And et viola!He noticed that we took a different turn and changed his way and came darting towards us,albeit at a distance of three feet.Let's just say,we were trying to be far.

S:Omg!Where's the shop,dammit!Let's get in somewhere!!

We already got into that adrenalin-rush phase by then.And then dumbass me suggested a new idea:

Me:Let's stop at a place and see if he stops too.

So we pause as if window-shopping coconuts and straws heaped beside a car and I turn around.Impressive,he stopped too.And then what I saw was way to gross,he slid his hand inside his pant and sent kisses in the air.*gasps*

Me:Holy fucking shit!

S:Wha..?

Me:Run for your life,someone just got something errected.

S:oh wha..

Me:He's masturbating,run!*grabbed her hand*

S:@##%$^&**^**!!!!!

And then our eyes-blinded,our legs gave up and we ran for our lives,between fat women,between paunches,stepped on dung,stopped cars,suspensed traffic,gathered obnoxious curses,came back home,put the pillow on my face and pondered,how much would it take to amputate it and feed that to the asshole!

Ugh!I.SO.FUCKING.HATE.BEING.A.GIRL.AND.BEING.MOBBED.BECAUSE.OF.IT!

Another incident that happened to A:

She was walking back home after writing her ISC exams and an old man[say 40] riding a bicycle,stopped beside her and said:Wanna see?See![Dekhte chow?Dekho!]And showed it. :O

Almost same kind of shit happened to M and U.For S and me,it was the first time.Now I learnt a lesson:A knee in need,is a knee indeed.

Death On A Tuesday.Sounds like a poem?

I love my silhouette[clickhereassholes].You don't?Fuck off.

Tuesday is going to be the longest,toughest and the last day of my life.A day which begins with Maths,every other day begins with that,has got two Economics classes and a bunch of other fat women blabbering for 45 minutes each and a short dork trying to be tall,and women bickering about women,and an ugly looking squid for lunch,and chinkies grabbing copies and copying stuff like mad,and friends talking about their boy friends and an ugly,fat,ill-clad,protruding-muscled woman leaving sarcastic comments,and a room beside a green,grassy meadow,and drifting eyesight,then punishment,a round of Bingo championship,winning,submitting copies that'll be stamped by Puran Daju,a bus loaded with puking kids,peeing kids,shouting kid,kids with chocolates,a buxom,spectacled idiot,and others too,a tired,dead girl staring at a place with no kids and et viola,a kid rolls in,a red eyed chauffeur,unfinished lunched,unfinished conversation,unlocked cupboard,hasty exit,a nice but boring man's notes,giggles,phones beeping,a father and mother prying the girl's lips open to stuff in food claiming that she's underweight,a stupid sibling,a mad barking puppy,untouched homeworks,smoke,out of my mouth,fermented juice inside my mouth,dialing numbers,on hold for an hour,sad,dejected,lonely,unwanted,disconnected girl,slumber!Uh-oh!Long sentence.

Are we over with Tuesdays yet?*dreads*

If only. :'(

Only if this smarty pants were to be 30 years younger,I wouldn't be searching for a date all over the galaxy.No aliens for me,no dumbass for me,only smart ass.Features you?Contact me.
But no,you must be married,engaged,gay,etc.Do me a favour?Just die!

People Are Like That.

About the display board...I don't know.I never thought of making a model of DNA,sticking injections and blood samples.How did the red team do that? :O
Anyway,there was this folk dance competition yesterday and we volunteered to watch it so that we'd mishsh our mathsh clashsh.We did miss.How frustrated can a person get when she says,"Let's attend the Maths class instead." All the dances were THAT bad.
Also,a human had come to advertise the availability of the illustrated version of Oxford dictionary.He spent five minutes in cleaning his teeth with his tongue.Two minutes to fake an American accent.One minute to be laughed at. :D
Today,there was a classical solo dance competition.There was this girl in red who almost seduced some people.That was when I kept reminding myself "You are straight like a ruler." and narrowly escaped it.The song went like "Mohe Chum Le..." and I swear most had an orgasm.Okhay,exaggerating.But you get the idea,right?
Then there was this girl who danced...ermm..beautifully.Let's call her Snehashish Agarwal* and assume that the name is for a female.She kicked,punched,made weird faces,jumped about like a bunny rabbit.And I've decided to become a dancer now.Even I can do all that.
S looked pretty!She always does.Too bad she came out third.But still,that was something!
A retired art/craft teacher was invited for judgment.In those days she was famous for, "Sister,pot in my hand,pot in the ground,pot pottaash!" and "I have a husband,two male sons and a female daughter." Those were bright,colourful days.And with the microphone in her hand gripped tightly lest it pottaashes she said things like "All are winners,losers not heart,I miss you,I thank Sister,all of you my,the mudra was nice,very nice.Thank you." *claps* "I'd like to thank sister,my all of you,I miss you.The dances was nice." *claps* "I'd like to thank my staff.I love it here." *claps* "Tahole ekhon Bangla tei boli,mon theke...." *yawns* Question:Should we clap?
Anyway,after giving the translated speech,off the stage she went.I am not a perfectionist,I don't even hate humans who talk like that...but how the hell can you prevent yourself from laughing when a 'pot pottaashes'?
Cheerio!


*Name changed for ensuring the longevity of my life

*Sighs*

Okhay,I am still sick and I didn't go to school and right in the morning the doggie puked.He had eaten up two-three ants at some point of time and puked them out,along with yellow-yellow semi-solid stuff.*Pukes*
Guess what?My mother was getting ready for work and T.D. throws up if she gets to see such dirty thing,hot out of the stomach...SO they both went like,"Okhay you clean it."It's not even a request!It's like "We aren't cleaning it,so you'll have to do it,unless you want it to look like a Railway Station's Lavatory."And I DID!*pukes again* And my mum comes and pours water over the remaining yellow-yellow thing *gets hospitalized* so that it doesn't get sticky and TD goes like,"What will the mother-in-law say if you can't do such things?" Why?WHY?Jesus,WHY?
AND I CLEAN THAT TOO!I MOP THE FLOOR!And then I try to sprinkle the Phenyl and wow!Someone has removed the stopper so I pour a lot of phenyl instead and clean up the phenyl too and my house has started to smell like a Government Hospital where there's only phenyl and no doctor.

Of Pests And AIDS.

Let's just say that you can't get any sadder!
From today everytime I call you a 'Hebron' you'll read it as 'asshole'.
That's right,I make my own synonyms.
The parade pratice for 15th August got started.We stand height-wise in a descending order.
The first time we gave it a try,it started drizzling,then downpouring!
And for the first time,in a long time I bowed my head and prayed and sang "God is so good".
Next time the old fellow ditched me.
When I say parade practise,you needn't laugh at me,I do it pretty well.You should see a few people marching.I really can't seem to figure out HOW THE HELL THEY MANAGE TO SHAKE THEIR BUTTS SO MUCH WHILE MARCHING!
But that isn't much of a problem.The Hebron who stands behind me is!
Hebron:Eyyy!
Me:Yes?
Hebron:Eh,listen!When you go wrong,I'll say "Hey you!You are going wrong!"
Me:Right.

What the fuck is that,now?

Hebron:Don't talk!That is the rule!
Me:Right.

Hebron:Hey you!Jog!That is the rule!
Me: -_-

Hebron:Hey you!Don't sit here!
Me:Everyone IS!
Hebron:No,you shouldn't THAT is the rule!
Me:Fuck you!Fuck your rules!

Hebron:Hey you!You're taller than her,stand before her.
Me:No.
Hebron:That is the rule!
Me:*dies and goes to Heaven and punches God for creating the Hebron!*

You get the hint?YOU GET THE HINT AT ALL?!

Also,we'll have our display board competition sometime in the next week.Topic is AIDS.
These are the various ideas from various people:

P:There'll be two charts-one on the advantages of AIDS,one on the disadvantages.
D:We can draw in a chart too.One man will cut his hand and the girlfriend will suck the blood and get AIDS.
Me:*LMAO*
D:Or we can draw sexual intercourse too. =/
Me:Yes,in a black chart paper we'll write "Here two people are having sex in the dark.You can't see it pervert!" =))
A:No!We'll draw prostitutes!*giving an i'm-so-intelligent look*
Me:Somebody kill this cracker!

Okhay,cheerio!

Fest.

Firstly,Happy Belated Devil's Day.I didn't know such a day existed...but what the heck,eh?
I had written a long post on the Fest and then the PC turned off suddenly.And I'm pissed.Therefore there's nothing for you to read here.
Just fuck off!

This Is How I Do It.

Correct.So this is how I go to school.
Today was some Naxalite's birthday.Happy Birthday!Every year we get a holiday on this day.Today we didn't.
My bus leaves at 8:00 a.m. Going to the bus stand takes 15 minutes.

7:45 a.m.
*still sleeping*
*phone rings*
U:hey we've got school or not?
Me:Umm..zzz...right.
U:we got to go to school??
Me:NO!Nobody went to school.
U:I think we'll have school,i'm pressing my clothes.
Me:nah!i'm sleeping,bye!

7:48 a.m.
Mum:You have school.The neighbour kid went away.
Me:right....WHO??WHAT???

But there was an option there,she could have asked me not to go to school because there was no way that I'd make it to the bus stand on time.But no,she pressed my clothes,gave me a cup of pomegranate juice in a square shaped cup[wtf?].Before that thing could make it to my mouth,it settled comfortable on my shirt.Wonderful!
We both shouted at each other,but she'd send me to school anyhow.My rascal sister feigned sickness and stayed back.*swears*
By the time,I was done[without taking a shower] it was 8:05 a.m. ....but I still had to go to school,innit?
So a neighbour gave me a ride on his 'tuk tuk tuk tuktuktuktuk..trrrr' kind of bike.That was the sound.I couldn't miss it,could I?
And I made it to school.
At school:
S:Someone just got up from the bed and came to school.
Me:STFU! *swears more*

So,this is how I do it.This is the art.This is it.

Moral:Kill the principal,kill the bus driver,kill the neighbour kid,celebrate everyone's birthday,tie your mom to a chair and lock the door,kick your sister on the day before the prospective holiday.Then sleep and quit talking to geek friends.

Doodle 8:I Do It Everytime,Ranju.So?

The bomb belongs to the deserving ass,in the world of Economic,NOW UNDERSTAND THIS!
BOP is ALWAYS balanced.I'll tell you why;because credit has to be equal to debit EVERY fucking time.When trade is carried on without considering the BOP account it's autonomous receipts[for me]and payments.When BOP>BOT,my relatively tolerant mouth can't shut the fuck up,only 'just' though.Hence to balance my trade,I shove up a bomb in your ass,and you blow up.That is accomodating capital outflow.Fair enough,my ears blew up because of your affinity towards 'you do it everytime.'
Someone mail my blog link to this inept,narcissist bitch!

Now only if I were a real millitant.Only Alice gets to comment here,I learnt up too much of Economics,eh?

Happy Golden Jubilee To Blog Babe!

This is the 50th post,happy golden jubilee,blog babe.Here take a piece of cake,babe.Got no money to buy champagne,babe,don't ditch me for that petty an issue,please!

Conversations:
M:Ah poor you,harmless creature!
Me:*nods*
M:aye and stingless too.
Me:*nods*Hybla Bees.
Us:*Loafs*

So if you got a hint(which obviously you didn't,know-it-all) I wasn't talking today,I just fucking couldn't talk!I can cut myself from talking,but not bickering about laughable issue[read:human masterpieces].So I carried a notebook and a pen to write down comments AND today we bade farewell to Sr.Sheena,aha!what an oppurtunity to scrutinize the farewell program and write down pages of criticism.If you say that critics are generally a group of people who don't know how to do something,you are absolutely right,those dumbasses just don't know how to criticize at all!How disappointing!
So I'm typing down a few comments off my notebook.
On the Tamil song(no offence meant,but since I don't know a thing about this language,the song sounded outright funny to me):They are saying the same word throughout or what?
On the song "Seasons in the sun" by class 10[read:idiots]:
Me(at the starting):It's as exciting as unwrapping gifts-this song.
M:It's nt DAT "hard to die" if you are listening to it(if you don't know,the lyrics goes like Goodbye my friend,'it's hard to die')
On the suitcase gifted to her:Suitcase symbolizes,"Pack up and move on,baby!"
On our appalause at her entry:Vottay cunning plan!We are clapping because it is her Farewell Day!
On Sr.Margarette's "Bye Bye Sheena,I love you and I'll miss you" speech:
M:Sali hypocrite!(OMG!ROTFLMFAO!)
When bored:
M:According to Babylon(the teacher who was anouncing)we'll miss her @ home,can u guess wen?
Wen I'm flushing the toilet!(oh yea!and potty too,such a potty woman!)
When bored to the core(Topic:Some random man,what else is interesting during those moments?):
Me:They are kameena because they lose their insight with their eyesight!
M:Hmm.
Me:It's generally noobs who beat us in this game!
M:Fuck!I never noticed!
When Sheena starts singing a song:
U:We are listening to poorly composed opera.Tch tch.

Okhay so that was it,Sheena's song is the kind that is appropriate for the item "Ghost Ballet" by Ghost Dukhiyari Bhatakti Huyi Aatma for "Sssh,Phir Koi Hai".
Just because I wasn't talking everyone else started acting-talking like me.See my power?And when I said a word instead of writing by chance,they were like,"OMG!You are talking!"
Well,biologically speaking,I possess a vocal chord so I can't pretend to be dumb 24*7.
Incase you are thinking,I'm a new born baby who's learning to talk,well,I'm not.
No,not even a dare.
I fucking chewed up my tongue and lips while chewing dinner,innit?