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from the eyes of a 20-something

Comparing herself to a modern day Walt Whitman, is this 20-something woman with the unquenchable thirst to write poems (hate mail really) dedicated to me.

Not surprisingly, it has highly-acclaimed critics raving about it. Here's what one has to say:
"Lolzzz... I'm lovin' it! :D Kudos to her! She's described you almost perfectly in so few sentences. I haven't managed to do so even after such a long time!"
- Ms. N in action

Without further delay, gentleladies and gentlemen, here's:

Alok, I HATE you!

Alok, you make me choke,
and you can't even make a joke.
You get annoyed when I poke,
and your smelly feet need a soak.
You eat noodles with a fork,
and your laugh sounds like a croak.
Alok, Alok, Alok...

You don't smoke,
and you're a dumb bloke.
If you don't save money,
soon you'll be broke.
You drink Pepsi, not Coke;
you'll become stronger if you eat an egg yolk.
I feel like hiding you in an invisibility cloak!
Alok, Alok, Alok...

- Ms. C Elliot

shit happens

This one's for the guys who came over for lunch yesterday:

Having the b'loos'? Any oxymoronic feeling of having the runs while sitting down? (Tummy) upset over a shitty experience? Or even, the lyrics of '(I've Had)The Time of my Life' from the (s)hit movie 'Dirty Crapping' or 'Can't fight this feeling' going through your mind? Then come, let's raise a stink about this together!

Our tummies underwent great injustice yesterday. And the world should know we won't take this s(h)itting down!

Today, after our tummies settle, let's meat inside Shruti's biggest loo and show our 'soil'darity towards the cause of 'shit happens' (previously called 'can't fight for shit'), before logging the crap out of whoever is responsible. Until then, those with wifi and the OCD to take their laptops into the loo, can fill in my online poll to pass their time (and some gas).

As intimated by sms, please get your own toilet rolls or adult diapers. Ammunition will be provided in the form of Ceplox TZ, Imodium and Dependal. Choose your weapons wisely. Bottles of Harpic are more than welcome.

Please call our dedicated potline (1800-shit-happens) to address all your grievances.

What do you think was inside that curry?

Or if you have any other view (of the poll only please), please share it with us by leaving your comments.

unlucky by chance

"Love hurts, but sometimes it's a good hurt..."

Brandon Boyd (the vocalist of Incubus) couldn't have sung anything truer in 'Love Hurts'.

Love really hurts - not just your heart (bad!)... but your whole dang body as well (worse!!).

So what's this tirade all about anyway?

Sigh! If you must know.

Love pushed me to the gym.

And the cause of this epitome of my pain? Addlife.

All you out-of-shapes-who-newly-joined-a-gym out there must understand what I'm going through by now.

And when did this start?

Ironically, when monkey and I went to see 'Luck by Chance'.

Yours truly was contemplating joining the gym... cummon, everyone has - Hetch, Moto Moto, Uncle Pai, Papa Bear - and I didn't want to feel left out. So I turn to ask monkey's view on it.

Ooops, I couldn't have choosen a worse time!

Our highness was busy drooling at Hritik & Farhaan's topless (and hopefully CGed) bodies. She managed to peel her eyes off the screen to take a look at the chewed up toothpick sitting next to her.

Next thing I know, she's nodding yeses like a epileptic having fits!

And now I've condemned myself to eternal damnation (or 'gymnation' :S).

Unlucky by chance indeed! :(

Edit: Me love's given me something to mend my heart and body with... Volini! :D

hay! now this is a nice thought!

According to my office mom's ex CD (who might have heard it from someone):

Serendipity is like searching for a needle in the haystack, and finding the farmer's daughter!

the assumption song - it ALMOST got a parental rating :D

I'm not saying anything. Just click here. And don't assume anything! ;)

is god really in the details?

Yesterday, while on the way to the Deccan 1/4 Mile Drag (race, not queen), 'Reserve' had one of his once-in-a-blue moon epiphanies.

How come there were more Sai Baba Wine Shops than Sai Baba temples?

Which made me think; there were far too many wine shops named after Gods than temples themselves!

Conclusion: God is not in the details... He's in the distilleries!