Lord Kill the Pain

Unfortunately, my last visit to my old dentist had scarred me for life when it comes to experiencing some pain, especially dental. It was few months before my 10th standard examination, in the summer of 2005, when I had to undergo a root canal treatment. To cut out the details and coming to the point I will describe what I had to go through. OK, she had the cavity cleaned and drilled up to her content to expose all the nerves. The way she described how the infection reaches the nerves made me picture some wriggling worms, sticking out of my pre-molar tooth, which had to be stuffed inside. With every little stroke that she took to clean up the inside of the tooth, it was not just paining but stinging intolerably. I had dug all my nails in the arm rest of the chair. A random and frantic glance at her nonchalant countenance teasingly conveyed to me that painlessness can be bliss. Then it was time for the horrific incident that physically brings back a faint sensation of the feeling even now, giving me goosebumps. The dentist said that she would have to administer the local anesthesia to stop the pain. She produced an injection with a huge needle, bent the needle by almost a right angle in front of my eyes, a bit threateningly and heartlessly, I thought. Looking at the needle itself the throbbing had risen to a higher level. I can’t help being a little exaggerated here, but the lady rammed the needle in the tooth, pinned my forehead down against the headrest, and continued with her injecting. I was twitching I think, though don’t remember it, but my head was held steady by her strong grip which was equally strong while working on the tooth too. I wanted to scream, but restrained myself and spared her the unnecessary drama. When she retrieved, the throbbing now had surged to head which was also in pain. She gave me some time to recover and the anesthesia to have its effect. And then after that, the further process was painless but that is not the point… the point is that it was freakin’ painful!

P.S. Prefer a dentist with a smile on his/her face and a pink wallpaper.

Random Rambling 1

Typing anything before your mind makes a decision is sort of tough. But these days, I had taken a break from reading Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged to read some business book, and my linguistic skills took a nasty blow in the derriere. One might wonder what that has got to do with linguistic skills, but I'll say, hey man, that's got a great deal to do with it, and I mean it. First of all, using such cuss language along with the words 'linguistic skills' itself is gross. In short, let me explain, when you are reading a book with sophisticated English, it sort of rubs into you and your usage of language reflects that. The business book that I had to read was good in content but abysmal in language. Americans really can't speak classy-ly even to save their lives. Well, speaking about language anyways, I read this in Readers' Digest long time back: There was this person who had traveled in various countries, and had particularly observed the 'no smoking' signs posted in buses in those countries. Now I don't remember all the signs he had mentioned, but because of stark contrast I do remember the American and the British signs. The American buses request the passengers by saying, 'Please do not smoke', while the British buses say, 'You are graciously requested to refrain from smoking.' Nice isn't it? Or as the British would probably put it, 'Certainly the most impeccable way to make you point cleah!' (That h is on purpose OK)

An important point to remember while typing random stuff is that you should never mention it too often that you are being random, as the fun lies in being understated. Ah, understated! Whatever happened to being understated? People these days are so in-your-face and naked! Sheesh! I am talking about the reality shows that are mushrooming up these days. If the cheap dance-shows and stand-up comedians are not enough, people are interchanging the places of contestants in these two shows. The children are trying to be stand-up comedians. And boy are these brats so cheap! They think they are funny because they crack some slimy jokes which can tingle the funny bone of only a pan wallah in a roadside tapri, but the judges laugh at their jokes, guffaw to be exact. But why won't they? If you are an out-of-work loser of an actor or some politician/sportsperson with criminal record and if you are being payed a hefty amount, you'd laugh even at your own mother! The rural imports a.k.a. stand-up comics, on the other hand are trying to shake their body to Bollywood music in what can only be assumed as some Hallowe'en costumes. The breed of judges is the same here. Analogically, talent plays no role in either judging or contesting. Throw in some tawdry melodrama and people from the wrong side of the tracks will scrub you some measly TRPs. One buxom lady, it is heard, is also gonna arrange a wedding for herself on the TV, right from the groom hunting. She shall not be mentioned on my blog for obvious reasons of maintaining the C-Quotient, but let me hint you that all about her is not real and her image (figurative & literal) commits a sacrilege of her first name. I watched one episode of Paris Hilton's reality show, Paris Hilton's New BFF. That show surpasses the boundaries of being dumb and our desi contestants, against the ones on their show, suddenly appear so dignified and brimming with self-respect. Why would anyone on this earth want to race with others to become someone's supposed best friend? According to Paris, she's had lots of best friends but some didn't last while some did, (duh!) so she was in search of a new one now (sic). That proves one thing though, you can't survive on moderation in this world. Either you gotta be supernova intelligent, with IQ double your weight, or nerve searingly stupid with IQ equal to the number of fingers on your left hand which should've been through an accident, only then can you be so rich that people would find whatever you do as cool... or in Paris's style: hawt.

OK, I have rambled a lot. Trying to cut the size of my posts these days. The B. I. says: Just think random, and probably you'll find the missing link. Thank you very much.

P. S. I have not used 'Backspace' even once while writing this post to maintain the authenticity of the Randomness. It's been used though only to correct spelling errors. Don't like 'em on my blog, OK.

The Idle Masturbation of a Jobless Mind

Boredom... I dunno why, but I consider it to be a state of mind more blissful than sleep. Not the plain boredom though, but severe boredom, when you have absolutely no idea about what you want to do. You just sit there staring in the blank space. These lines written till now are forced out despite boredom. God! I didn't know I could suck so much... even as I write I have absolutely no idea where I am going to end up or what I am gonna write on. Twice already I have used three dots which show an indefinite end to ideas leaving them hanging in the air.

That was so irrelevant and unrelated.

After 10 minutes... I browsed through my friends list on Orkut profile. I realised I had added some just because they sent me a request and I have to bump into them more than one time in a week. I deleted them nevertheless. I like to keep only my friends close to me, not some acquaintances. I have some friends in my list who have more than 1000 'Orkut friends'. Talk about quality and quantity, eh!

I don't like anybody to hover behind me while I am sitting at the computer. I know they may not be trying to read what is there on screen (even though its nothing censurable) but what the heck... I am goddamn bored, I can make any kind of statements as far as I am not asking them to follow it. Should I do that, I will get a smack on my head from behind itself and the next thing I come to know my internet connection will be terminated. Hmph, shtupid parents!

There are some people who you can't help but hate from the first sight itself. I don't know why, but there have been couple of people I cannot stand whatsoever. Karma, incompatible aura, bad vibes, negative feelings, preconceived notions - call it whatever you want to, even though your best friends may get along well with them, you won't be able to do so with this one particular person. I like to think of such people when I am bored and hate them in peace... without judging myself or caring enough about negativity and all. One blissful advantage of boredom: you are too drunk on it to be introspective.

One thing which escapes my limited intelligence is why people act so "oversmart" when it comes to the freaking values and traditions? Now, bored or sane, I always hated these self-proclaimed Moral Police. One such incident which pissed me off was that Akshay Kumar's unbuttoning jeans episode at a fashion show (his wife unbuttoned his jeans on the ramp). This guy slapped a case on Kumar and his wife for indecency. First of all, this show was never formally aired on television, it's pictures appeared in newspapers and some clips were shown on entertainment channels. And I am pretty sure this sata-savatra bastard was not the one attending that show either that his nuts interchanged their places on the spot because of the "show of indecency". It is the people like him who are so cheap that to bask in the 15 seconds of fame they target any person. Now I am no die-hard fan of Kumar or his wife or anything, but I just hate such morons. I mean, c'mon dude, how jobless could you get? I can picture: he must have sat in front of TV one evening, with his wife and kids, watching some C-grade Hindi news channel where these equally loser of people show news in a cheap way. And his little chunnu-munnu might've got their first dose of kinkiness in the presence of their parents who might be squirming in their seats due to embarrassment. No wonder he filed a case against them.

Inference: When bored, do whatever you want to, and think about its consequence later: The Blithering Idiot.

(Shut up and let me go by The Ting Tings:
I ain't freaking I ain't fakin this
I ain't freaking I ain't fakin this
I ain't freaking I ain't fakin this
Just shut up and let me go!)

A Stud or a Jackass?

Various television awareness programmes and campaigns that are continually run right from news channels to music channels have got me really charged up about the elections. So whether it's Times Group's (dramatic yet effective) ad where the parents swear by their children to vote against the vices in politics or the Channel V and Tata Tea's joint venture called Vote ya Vaat endorsed by Kiran Bedi and others: I got a patriotic orgasm from all these audio-visual arousal - but sadly, not surging enough for me to get my butt off the chair and walk to the registrar's office to submit the form, but strong enough to Google the educational qualifications of the two most eligible contenders for the post of the Honourable Prime Minister of India: Mr L. K. Advani and Dr Manmohan Singh.

The Google auto-suggestions came in useful here and almost decided itself who was the better man. It showed many suggestions till I typed educational qualifications of... like Lalu Prasad Yadav, Sachin Tendulkar et al (not Advani though) but the moment I reached "dr" it dropped down a single suggestion: Educational Qualification Prime Minister Dr Manmohan Singh. On clicking on one of the links what followed was a long list of his degrees and the posts he held at strategic and dignified position.

L. K. Advani couldn't fare so well as Dr Singh on Google. No auto-suggestions dropped down even when I typed his full name. But then again he doesn't have much feathers to his credit or in his cap, just an LLB I suppose, what in Pakistan is known as BL (Bachelor of Law), whereas Dr Singh is as endowed as a full-fanned peacock.

Just today Dr Singh confessed that he might not be a public speaker as good as Advani but he added that we need more a working PM. Advani later questioned why Dr Singh was never in any political campaign during the election season. Hah! A sign of aristocracy on the part of Dr Singh I would say. He has always been the silent and controlled person with a firm hand throughout his term. This was misinterpreted by the media and poisened by the opposition as symptoms of a weakling under control of Mrs Gandhi. He hardly ever indulged in the dirty politics and kept himself away from name-calling and mud-slinging. For a country brimming with population, corruption, debts and deficits, a person with controlled behaviour and measured speech is what we direly need.


The BJP campaign ad is the mind-numbingly infuriating, aimed at duping the illiterate by showing a brooding Advani in fake pensive poses staring in vacuum and suddenly a scene of skyscrapers materialising out of blue (which belong to some western countries). I was like who're you kidding old fart?! He seems to have developed a fixation for unnecessarily criticising and cursing the opposition just for the sake of it like an uncontrollable motor-mouth on loose. But not once have I heard from him any concrete scheme or plan about anything at all. I bet the economic development of the country would be ignored if he became the PM and all the caste and race politics will be played shamelessly.

In the end what I wish and what India needs is not a Manmohan Singh or an Advani but a man serious about his business. Let him be from any party for that matter, but he shouldn't seem a downer after what we had as one term with the most qualified PM of India. We already did that mistake (sacrilege) after Dr APJ Abdul Kalam's presidential term got over. Let's get serious and practical while voting, not emotional. Our duty is to elect the right guy only, not to run the country, even though it's a democracy. So let us stand by the ablest amongst all of them, so that if he wins we can rest assured we are in good hands.

Dear Mr Pigeon

Dear Mr Pigeon,

Coo.

But I don't think that's the sound you make. It's something like an asthma patient having problem while breathing: Ghmmmm ghmmm! You make me wanna hurl a stone at you, Mr Pigeon. But then I resist myself cuz you are dumb enough to stand there still humming like a freaking fool.

It tears my nerves when you try to stuff yourself through our kitchen window and flutter around the clutter flapping your wings with the even more irritating phat-phat-phat-phat noise. Aarrrgghhhh!!! Can't you see that there's a fan switched on? Who will clean up the mess if your... forget it! There's nothing in anybody's home that you can pluck and fly away. No strategic positions to build your nest either, OK? Any let's face it dude, you are not as adventurous, brisk or macho like the crows to swoop away with something. And speaking of crows, look how smartly they perch themselves at the windows waiting for food. And if I shoo them away, they immediately take off but don't have any ego hassles coming back to see if still we have any edible scrap for them. Suave!

And what's with the habit of cocking head and revolving around yourself? Vous-etes retardé? Or is your memory so short that you just forget what things are around you by the time you look in another direction? You can't even strut about without cocking your head damn it! And I would also like to request you not to have those idiotic wing brawls with other dimwits of your species because that's just so gay! There is no display of any avine barbarism, you know, like the cool falcons; you just hustle, bustle and jostle with each other and finally fall off from wherever you are struggling in what seems like lovers in embrace.

So Mr Pigeon, I just hope your species gets extinct (like the dodo's did because of lack of brains) or you could get allergic to the global warming and try to fly over the ocean and then just drop into it, exhausted, after finding out there's no place to land! I still can't figure out how you pulled off the mail-delivering coup in the olden days.

Anyway, I hate you, pea-brain!

Love,
The Blithering Idiot.

Oh Paris, La Paris!

Disclaimer:

For those of you who don't know Paris or don't follow her news it would be futile in a way to read this post because you won't be able to grasp the humour. And if you do read it, watch the video too, cuz that's like half the insanity that is this post.

Paris Hilton is hot!

Paris is like one of the most famous as well as notorious celebrity in the U.S. of A. She's the usual dumb blonde rich bitch who can't display even traces of intelligence to save her life. But even then her hot looks and fashion style(?!) have divided the people who know her into two: those who hate her and those who just adore her. What is very interesting to observe about this specimen is her survival in this world amongst people with IQ level equal to her number of dresses. For her everything is hot, and by hot I mean: hawt! For a woman who socialises so much it is hard to believe that the only word she can describe good things with is hawt!

One of her quotes:
I think it's important for girls to be confident. Believe in yourself and ... everybody's hot.

Apart from acting on the reality shows Paris Hilton's BFF(wtf!) and The Simple Life (which is not aired any more) and a couple of movies, and singing some songs, she also earns her income from letting people partying with her. It's apparently called the Paris Hilton Party and she charges people (more than $100) to be her guests. And how do you think she entertains them as a hostess? She just makes a brief appearance on the stage or whatever, and says, 'Wooohooo, hey there guys, how's everyone doin? I want you to rock this party! Dance it up, cuz you are so hawt!' And that's it. That's all the 'guests' get to see of her in the Paris Hilton Party.

Being so incredibly dumb, she's got some unique style statement though. Designers love her only cuz she's the most visible person in all the events. And this dumb-sel loves her designer wears so much that she fears losing them to someone:
Kaballah helps you confront your fears. If a girl borrowed a dress from me, didn't return it to me and if I saw her wearing it, I will confront her.

The only rule is don't be boring and dress cute wherever you go. Life is too short to blend in.

But this one is unusually witty of Paris:
Every woman should have four pets in her life. A mink in her closet, a jaguar in her garage, a tiger in her bed and a jackass who pays for it all. :)

She's been the heiress to the Hilton empire but I guess her grandfather refused her the heirloom after her many sexcapades, publicly shameful behaviour and probably realising that she actually had an amoeboid brain. She had admitted that as a child she was like:
When I was a kid I had no idea I lived in a mansion. Then I went to a friend's house and I was like - "Oh".

A true heiress is never mean to anyone - except a girl who steals your boyfriend.

I don't want to be known as the granddaughter of the Hiltons. I want to be known as Paris.

It's OK to a certain extent when she talks to the entertainment media only. But then she blabbers on to anything that resembles a mic ('I don't think, I just walk') and when she does that, you really can't believe that a person can be so goddamn oblivious to an international crisis. Share holders had been reported to have committed suicides and Paris prances around giving her 'views' on the ubiquitous global recession:
Yeah, I heard it's around. I think everyone should wear happy colours.

I like it, ... but it's yellow, and I'm like, I didn't want yellow for my engagement ring.

Paris then bought a bubble-gum pink (urgh!) Bentley, and further customised it with a $283,ooo diamond encrusted dashboard.

(When asked about the British Prime Minister Tony Blair) Who? Oh he's like your president?... yeah, I dunno what he looks like.

This is Earth, isn't it hot?

(After her visit to Africa) South Africa was great! I also liked North Africa, East Africa and West Africa!

Her dating history is really in chapters! She hooks up with any rich guy she bumps into at pubs and parties and who she thinks is really hot! The funniest incident was when Paris was partying in the same club as Princes Harry and William and she tried to get nauddy (naughty) and flirt with William. But Will, being a royal gentleman, just talked to her and didn't fall for her (obviously). And she was all excited: Aren't the princes really hawt? We exchanged phone numbers! (Not true)

Some more:
I've only done it with, like, a couple of boyfriends. People think I sleep with everyone, but I'm not like that. I like kissing, but that's all I do. I'm not having sex for a year, I've decided. I'll kiss but nothing else.

I'd rather sit in bed and watch TV. All of my ex-boyfriends-of course, not Paris-would be like, 'What's the problem? You're so not sexual.'

Paris on her own image as a dumblonde:
I used to act dumb. That act is no longer cute. Now, I would like to make a difference ... God has given me this new chance.

I think I am a good role model.

It will work. I am a marketing genius.

Wal-mart... do they like make walls there?

Those cup-cakes still look good to me.

Now this one gets darn hilarious! During the US presidential race, John McCain had compared Barack Obama as a celebrity to the likes of Britney Spears and Paris Hilton and asked a question, 'Is he ready to lead?' Paris hit back at McCain with this video. She says stuff like, 'I am not promising anything like everyone else... I am just hot!' 'Thanks for the endorsement, white hair dude (McCain) and I wanna tell America that I'm like totally ready to lead' and then goes on in a detailed and professional solution to the economic and financial crisis to finally sign off with 'See you at the debate, bitches.' Check it out in this vid:

And in this video, Paris takes herself a tad too seriously and promotes herself to America "get their butt off the chair and vote" her for the post of President. She doesn't however, do this through smart or brainy speeches but through a musical song-and-dance video. Watch it for more laughs than the previous ones as America's "commander in bikini" swears that "global warming is not that hot."