Saturday, March 27, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
A plague has come upon XLRI. And it has its roots in new 'in' thing: 'status' messages. There was a good old time when I looked forward to the hyperlinks in them. It was our desi version of StumbleUpon. Anyone who discovered anything interesting over the web shared it with his e-circle of friends.
But this plague is different. Its called "Survey".
From carbonated drinks to smoking habits, from product placements to IPL and from a new car to a new home, every XLer has been bombarded with questions, the answers to which he has none. The questions are masterpieces in themselves. The best one I came across was"
- "During the past one month, how long(in minutes) have you usually taken to fall asleep at night?"
And the seven-point scales. Phew!
Every morning I open my eyes, I ask myself:
- "I dont want to wake up."
If this continues, there would be a time when an XLer would propose to the girl of his dreams in the following fashion:
- "Rate on a scale of 1 to 7(7 being Strongly Agree). Would you marry me?"
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
The hoopla started with DLF IPL Season 1. If someone could bring filthy rich glamor to IPL of this dimension, it had to be Shit-Rukh-Khan, henceforth referred to as Mr. Shit. He was the best thing that ever happened to Mr. Lalit Modi, whose wet dreams got a dream climax with Mr. Shit. Along with a few budding fashion models cum part-time cricketers, the guy went on Dandi-Yatra-ish ramp walks in a golden sling designed by some Malhotra guy. Preity Zinta, Shilpa Shetty (IPL2), Katrina Kaif and Akshay Kumar could only dream of this hype. After all, Mr. Shit has been doing this for ages.
He is a superstar in the true sense of the word. The guy hams and stammers and looks like a cross between an Al Pacino body double and Pinocchio. But he exemplifies what an awesome network of 'friends' and 'well-wishers' at respectable production offices and media houses can do to a wannabe. Add to that 'special friendships' with KJo and Arindam Chowdhary (both deserving assholes in their own right, pun intended as hell), he's set to rule the hearts of all the oh-i-am-a-girl-i-have-to-like-him-no babes out there. He's the grand daddy of social networking in India; Facebook and LinkedIn can take a leak!
The controversy-loving, publicity-begging, one's-own-trumpet-blowing (no pun intended, i wish!) idiot used all the business sense in the IPL, compromising on the much more needed sense: of cricketing. His team, KKR, was the first to break even, thanks to shitloads of merchandise guzzled in the first year. It started off its campaign with a bang with the McCullum knock I'll never forget in my life. And thud! That was it! Mr. Shit generated controversies on-and-off-the-field and his team kept on biting dust. And when things seemed to slow down a bit, there was the corny-yet-ever-effective formula to gain headlines again: the owner-captain spat.
Then came IPL2.0. John Buchanan was the new wand of publicity. The team that finished sixth among eight promised the Kolkatans of some magical turnaround. The team of eleven had some eight captains, six managers, twelve hairdressers and seven PR guys among them, thanks to the theory of Mr. Jo Buch. Merchandise was still flying off the shelf. Mr. Shit was still raking in the moolah. But alas! the histrionics did not pay off on the field. The team finished eighth among eight!!! And with it ended the purple patch in business. The black-and-gold t-shirts became more stigmatised than HIV. And dhandha became mandaa!
IPL 3.0 started with a tinge of sense and sanity. The hype was put to rest and cricket became he top priority. Who knows if the team starts winning again, the business can see a turnaround! And the buggers have won two matches as well! Lets see if one of the most unpopular teams of all time is able to win some respect this time.
MangoMan's discovery # 1239
KKR is an anagram of KRK! That says it all!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And the blasphemous uninitiated ignorants who have no clue about KRK, this is for you.
Link1 Link2 Link3 Link4
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
- "You would have looked very smart if you hadn't brought your face."
- "When rape is inevitable, its wise to enjoy it."
- "Boss, I can tell you at least maximum(!!!!????) would have done it wrong."
- "Saari Raamayan khatam ho gayi aur tum poochh rahe ho Seeta kiska Baap!"
- "You wretched-face creatures with no sense of dressing and walk in sleep..."
- "The only thing you have learnt in XLRI is how to stand still after a bottle of whiskey."
- "Can you please come down from the House of Lords (last benches, slightly elevated as you go back every level) and sit in the House of Commons (the front benches)?
- "(The graph is) pressed from the top and getting big from the bottom...
- "...but, a very big but..." [if you don't get this last one, Think JLO, think Malaika, think Nicole]
Monday, March 08, 2010
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Disclaimer to this claimer: Do not proceed if you find words of wisdom like "fuck", "screw", "damn", "butt", or "ass" offending/fucking/screwing your damn butt/ass. Also, keep all the potentially dangerous equipment away: you might want to kill yourself after reading this.
The demented author of this blog has been leased out from an asylum-cum-penitentiary-cum-zoo to save this world from an inevitable apocalypse. Anything he
writes scribbles here is for the same mission and is the result of a severely tormented childhood.
Any resemblance to anyone living, sleeping, fucking, inebriated or dead is purely intentional. If the content seems to malign any club, organization, company, or individual, it is meant to be so. Get a friggin' self esteem and be offended. Go sue/screw me. I don't give the-tapeworm-in-your-intestine's ass!!
The images used are NOT the properties of the respective owners from whichever shit-holes you are leading your pitiable lives in. I won't give you credit. Its your damn butt's mistake to not use a watermark before uploading it over the internet. Even a seventh grader knows how to do that. I wont give you any credit for any material lifted from your blog and published here, verbatim or otherwise. Go get fucked, fuck yourself or get electrocuted.
I am not responsible, nor will be held liable, for anything anyone says on my blog in the blog comments. I'm not their goddamned nanny. Go chase their asses if you are a crybaby and have a grudge. Or what the hell, bring it on!
Also, do not come to me if your kid wastes time reading this shit rather than preparing for his board exams that guarantee a most-fulfilling rat race in store for him. Learn parenting first.
The intention is never to endorse/glorify/promote/sell any kind of intoxication. Yes, I do all kinds of shit but use your balls and brains before making a decision, that is, if you ain't already doing it.
This blog is not for my fellow inmates, ingrates or illiterates. Pregnant, probably pregnant, about to be pregnant or dieing to be pregnant women are advised to consult their husband, boyfriend or both and the physician before reading. Eating less than seven hours before reading may result in unhealthy movements of bowels. Not recommended for people over the age of 105 years and 7 months.
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Should you link to this domain or use, reproduce, republish, regurgitate, repeat, reiterate, rebound, reecho, reverberate, mimic, imitate, parrot or duplicate the information contained on this blog, you alone are responsible for that action. I never asked you to do so. Even if I did, fuck you!
Any funny/pathetic/offending/harsh translation by Google translator is purely the responsibility of Google, Inc. Go screw them!
Yes, I suffer from delusions of adequacy and grandeur. Its too hypocritic of you to not to.
All disputes subject to jurisdiction in Jamshedpur only. Move your asses down here at least. The limits on the financial damages is 10 INR irrespective of your hailing from any food-deprived land with hyperinflation.
And finally, FOR EXTERNAL USE ONLY!!
P.S. Quite contrary to the overall mood of the post, I would like to give credit to Herche. 12.679% of this post is inspired by the disclaimer on his blog.
Monday, March 01, 2010
They are all there. They are all cheering, hands in air. Roars and Applauses. He is the light at the other end of this tunnel. They are taking His name. The one in the red turban and an unkempt beard is a bit over the board. He's joining both his hands in an inexplicable manner so as to devout himself. The lady with the slightly unhooked blouse is screaming like never before. Their hands are dirty and their hair is rough and messy. The legs are weak and the feet are bare. Its scorching hot. They do not feel an ounce of heat. These are the winds of change.