Monday, December 15, 2008

Shoe throwing

As an unbiased observer and avid shoe-throwing connoisseur, I have the following advice for participants on both sides of all future shoe-throwing events.

Advice to shoe-throwee : The next time you are at a press conference, somebody throws a shoe at you and you are able to dodge it, plan your next couple of seconds while taking into account the fact that most humans are bipeds and that another shoe will surely be forthcoming.

Advice to shoe-thrower : The next time you throw a shoe at someone, first do a pump fake. That will cause your target's head to dodge reflexively. When it bobs back up, that's when you actually throw your shoe. Also, try not to let your overwhelming hatred for the guy impair your shoe-throwing aim.

That is all.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Video game taunting

There is currently an interesting discussion going on in the video gaming forum on the best way to taunt someone whom you've just killed in an online gaming session. Taunting has always been an integral part of sports and gaming both offline and online and methods for doing so have varied. In real life, it is easy to taunt someone. You can just tell the guy that he sucks. Or you could pretend to hold him up in your arms and gently lower him onto your hips in an act of conjugation. Forcing a fellow member of your own gender to envision the scenario of sexual congress with yourself has traditionally been a pretty effective taunting tool for male competitors, both juvenile or otherwise.

However, taunting is much more complicated when you are playing online. I remember when I was an Unreal Tournament fanatic in my youth, I used to derive a lot more satisfaction from the celebration that accompanied the demise of my opponent than his death itself. In UT, taunting was easy. You had a fixed number of pre-programmed verbal taunts that could be applied at the click of a button. Many people favored the "You like that?" taunt, which I personally found a bit grating. Imagine the nerve, asking someone you've just killed if he liked it. Very discourteous. Some people were more blatant with the "Die Bitch" taunt. Again, that was not my style. Too primitive for a thinking man. The only time I employed it myself was when somebody killed me eight times in a row and then finally, I managed to kill him back. It was a good way to release all that pent-up homicidal fury. My favorite taunt in UT was "Neeeext". Now that is an intelligent taunt. Not only does it inform the deceased that a celebration of his demise is under way but that killing him was so bereft of any challenge whatsoever that I was immediately ready for my next victim with no need for respite. In UT, you could also do celebratory dance moves that were similarly pre-programmed into the keyboard. I seldom used them because for one, I suck at dancing even when I am in pixel form and the move is pre-programmed and two, I have been killed too many times while dancing and it is quite a humiliating way to go down.

So what I learnt from the forum discussion is that taunting is a big part of the Call of Duty 4 online experience, which I am currently addicted to. I have never indulged in any taunting in COD4 until now simply because I never knew how to do it and COD4 doesn't have any pre-programmed verbal taunts or dance moves. But apparently it can be done. A popular taunt in COD4 is what's known as "tea-bagging". Now I know what tea-bagging means in real life but I wasn't sure what it entailed in an online pseudo-environment. Fortunately, I was saved from the embarrassment of asking this question by someone else who asked it before I did. The reply was quite detailed and graphically informative.

"There are variations ... but its basically kneeling on top of a corpse's head so your genitals are obviously on his forehead. You can do one long kneel or a quick kneel-stand up motion a couple times to emphasis the tea-bag. I prefer the quick up and down motion ... I get better results. Sometimes it helps to say 'tea-bag - tea-bag - tea- bag' for each kneel down."

A less informative reply that was too cliched to be humorous was, "You fill a cup with hot water then pull out a bag of your favorite bag of tea, then commence on t-bagging." I could "groan" at this reply but that would be cliched as well.

A subsequent poster elaborated on a variation on tea-bagging that he claims to have developed himself in his spare time, which he calls "tuck and twist". It involves "T-Bagging the person whilst spinning in a 360 degree circle". It is an interesting approach and I can see how that would work with the tea-bagger and tea-baggee both spinning together in sweet harmony. I would have tried that one out but spinning makes me dizzy. A third poster brought up the point that he prefers his taunting to be pre-mortem in that he sneaks up on snipers and first humps them in their back before killing them, the advantage of this method being that the deceased is able to replay the entire sequence during the killcam clip (the short animation that plays back the player's death for his benefit).

Now that I've reviewed a bunch of people's taunt sequences, I've come up with one of my own. This is what it's gonna look like. I'm gonna do it to a sniper because I hate snipers and I think it is my duty to periodically remind them of how much they suck. So I sneak up behind a sniper and I sit beside him. Perform a few pushups. Then, when I am ready to see him die, I knife him. Then, I pick up the weapon he just dropped, shoot his corpse with it, fire it in the air till it runs out of bullets, throw it back onto the corpse and finally, yes, I'm gonna go with the flow here, tea-bag the corpse till it weeps in heaven.

I do no favors online.

Monday, December 08, 2008


I love that television commercial. The one where the squirrel runs out onto the road chasing a nut and a car is driving up and the squirrel sees it bearing down on it and lets out a panicked human-like yell and then other animals in the vicinity, fearing for the squirrel's well-being start yelling as well, including raccoons, mice, deer, owls and so forth, even a grasshopper whose yell is in the form of a mild buzzing, which is conceptually quite funny. Then the woman in the car, who has a funny face on her begins to scream as well and now everybody is yelling or screaming, except the guy who is driving the car, who looks at his screaming female with some amusement and with a deft turn of the wheel, drives around the screaming squirrel. Apparently, that particular make of car has amazing handling. I effing love that commercial. It is very funny. The problem is, even after watching this commercial a hundred times, I still do not know what brand of car it is promoting. Commercial Win or FAIL?

And then there's the Head-on commercial. It simply consists of a female voice repeating the following sentence three times in quick succession, "Head-on : apply directly to the forehead". On the screen is a picture of a woman applying Head-on directly to her forehead. While she is thus engaged, the caption next to her reads, "Head-on : apply directly to the forehead." The message is unmistakably clear. The product is called Head-on and it should be applied directly to the forehead. Aesthetically, probably the absolute worst commercial of all-time. But as to effectiveness, look at me, I'm writing about Head-on. Definitely commercial Win.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Theory refuted

Researchers in Harvard and UCSD appear to have refuted my law of "conservation of happiness". This theory of mine was a pretty solid one as seen by the fact that it lasted for about two years and required the combined resources of these two academic behemoths for its refutation. What these researchers have now concluded is that contrary to my theory, happiness is not a finite resource and that there exists a perpetual happiness machine which has the ability to generate this emotion continuously without requiring any additional input. This happens through a chain reaction of happiness initiated in one person and subsequently transmitted to other people without any loss of happiness in the emotion-initiator. Although I am a bit miffed that my theory has been invalidated, I am also happy about the fact that happiness is a renewable resource and that mankind need not fear running out of it. And that this happiness of mine will, in turn, generate happiness in other people around me and leave the happiness in me untouched.

In spite of the failure of my theory to withstand scientific scrutiny, in the interests of fairness and good science, I demand that my theory continue to be taught in schools alongside this newer theory in order to allow students to hear both sides of the argument and make up their own minds.

Rusty Gears

gawker : So did you interview the new guy?

colleague : Yes, I did. He's smart.

gawker : Really? What are his qualifications?

colleague : He has a masters degree from UPenn.

gawker : Cool. Masters in what?

colleague : Bayesian.

gawker : Bayesian?

colleague : Bayesian.

gawker : Bayesian probability?

colleague : Yes, Bayesian.

gawker : How will that help him in tech support? Are you sure about this? That he has a masters in......

colleague : Bayesian. Yes.

gawker : Hmmm....Bayesian....strange.

colleague : Yes. Bayesian.

gawker : Masters. In Bayesian. Hmmm.

colleague : Yes...?

gawker (sound of rusty gears creaking into motion) : Oh.....

colleague (waiting) : Yeeees........?

gawker : Goddamn you.

colleague : LOL.

gawker : Thank you for your patience.

colleague : You're welcome.


I get the following email from my colleague :

"Gawker....there's something strange about this function in the code....Did you write it?"

I go through the function and it's in a file that I usually stay clear of. So I reply to that effect, saying no, it's probably not mine. Colleague then sends out an email to my boss, asking her if she wrote the function.

A few minutes later, my boss replies, "The comments to the function contain the word 'anomaly'. That's not a word I usually use."

Colleague mails me, "You know what, I don't even know what anomaly means. So I'm sure it isn't my function either."

Sure enough, it turns out to be my function. Now I have been instructed to use the word "anomaly" in the comments of every function I ever write. Digital urine.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008


So as I was relaxing in the restroom today, I came up with this new joke that I am planning to use at the next Software Developers Stand-up Comedy Convention (or NAMBLA). It goes like this :

"Hey, so what is with memory leaks? If you're not releasing memory, why is it leaking?"

I hope you like it.

If you're a java developer, I warmly welcome your deprecatory comment regarding how this joke would not apply to you since java is free of memory leak issues.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember Matt Taibbi's good old takedown of Tom Friedman's "The World is Flat"
And then I don't feel so bad

(Nostalgia brought on by this)

I like this guy

Here is a guy I admire and respect very much. He's the CEO of AIG, the insurance company that got bailed out by the federal government a few weeks ago. Turns out that the executives of this just-bailed-out-company gathered last week at a posh resort in Phoenix, complete with “cocktail parties, limousines, and dinner out at a top restaurant.” (via ThinkProgress). All this was paid for, presumably, with taxpayer dollars, money that was supposed to be utilized in helping the company back to its feet financially.

But here's why I like and respect this guy so much. When asked on Larry King Live as to why this conference was kept so secretive to the point that AIG instructed the resort not to put up a single sign proclaiming their presence there, he replied that the reason for that was because the company was trying to tighten its budget and therefore, did not wish to waste any money on signs.

Now I am not one to indulge in vulgarities but if you were looking for role models for your testes, your search ends right here. At this man's balls. These magnificent works of art that I respect and admire so much.

Amazon review

Oh you fickle review raters, why won't you like my review? Only three out of four of you found my latest review useful. What about you, fourth rater-guy? In what way did my review displease you? Did I not say enough times that the game I was reviewing was awesome? Did I not inform you that the weapons were awesome? I even touched upon the awesomeness of the maps and how the atmosphere of the game was awesome and how the dualshock 3 controller added even more awesome to the pre-existing awesome of the game. And finally, just so as not to leave you wondering, hmm, I wonder if this reviewer thought this game was awesome, I even titled my review, "AWESOME!!!!".

So how come you didn't find my review awesome? You must be hard to please, little man.

So I was going through my old reviews that I appear to have written about eight years ago and I was shocked at the quality of my writing. It turns out that there was a time when not only did I spell the word "rocks" as "rox" and "sucks" as "sux", but I even flaunted those usages in public. Also, I appear at that point in my life to have subscribed to the mindset that typing "r" instead of " are", "u" instead of "you", "wud" instead of "would", "cud" instead of "could, "wot" instead of "what" and "mebbe" instead of the word "maybe" could result in tremendous time savings. Additionally, it is also clear that I used to belong to the Sarah Palin line of thinking which heartily recommends getting rid of the "g" at the end of every progressive verb, thus leading to a number of "freakin"s, "makin"s and "killin"s in my writing. You know, I am now thinking that my decision to remain oblivious of this blogging business right upto the crack of 2005 was probably a good one on my part.

Saturday, November 08, 2008

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Fix his car

Fix his car, Philly. You flipped it over. Remember, every flipped car you fix today will allow you to guiltlessly flip another car tomorrow. Think of the future of car-flipping.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008


I don't know how long this high is gonna last but it feels good. Damn good. I feel my stress lowering to pre-George Bush levels.

I also think it is now time for the Philadelphia Eagles to do something.


What is up with you California? I thought you had more brains than this. Have you been hanging around the wrong kids again?

Be gone

You might think I am overdoing it, but I am deadly serious. I never ever want to see Sarah Palin again. Not on tv. Not on the internet as a picture or a smileyface. Not even in the sky as a cloud resembling her bangs. I do not want her name to be uttered in anecdote or joke form, at least while I am in the vicinity. If you wish to refer to her aloud in conversation, you would do well to code it in a manner such that I fail to interpret it to be her name. Using piglatin, spelling it out incorrectly or using sign language is highly recommended. I want each and every pair of Sarah Palin eyeglasses in each and every novelty store destroyed and the store disinfected with heavy duty bleach. I want you to start using the letter "g" at the end of every progressive verb and stop winking into the camera, were you to find yourself in such a situation. When I type in "Sarah Palin" into Google, I want to see zero search results and Google to ask me, "Did you mean Saree Wearing". Towards that end, this post has been programmed to self-destruct in 3...2.....1.


Al Franken update

Al Franken is a mere 2,000 votes behind with 90% votes counted. It's still a race.

The Onion

...did not waste a minute.


Al Franken is still in the race. With 80% reporting, he is only 5000 votes behind. I hope he wins. I am really rooting for him. Both these blogs probably owe their existence to Al Franken. And that's not just the vodka talking.

It's a beautiful day

I deleted this post. It didn't sound right. If you're quick, it might still be in the feed somewhere. Stupid vodka.

Viva La Revolucion.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Election Night

7:47 : So to recap what's been happening till now, McCain has swallowed up Kentucky. Vermont, sweet sweet Vermont has acquiesced to being tenderly spooned by Obama. Obama supporters are gathering in Chicago in anticipation of the giant cataclysmic orgasm that he has promised them tonight. On CNN, Wolf Blitzer already shuddered to a satisfying climax when the brand new CNN gadget allowed a field reporter to be holographically beamed into the studio.

McCain is leading in Indiana 51 to 48 but the blue areas of the state haven't been counted yet. Obama is leading massively in Florida 58 to 42 with 11% counted.

7:57 : South Carolina goes to McCain.

7:59 : New England (except New Hampshire and Rhode Island), Illinois, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland and DC have been called for Obama. Oklahoma and Tennessee go to McCain.

8:07 : Obama is killing in Orlando, FL. I guess Donald Duck hates America.

I hadn't planned on live blogging tonight but there is little else to do during Wolf Blitzer's bathroom breaks.

8:10 : Obama is leading 60% to 40% in North Carolina with 4% counted. These numbers don't mean shit. But I just saw them on tv.

8:18 : Florida is closing up with 30% counted. Obama leads 53 to 47.

8:20 : Eh? Apparently ABC, NBC and MSNBC have already called Pennsylvania for Obama. Does this mean I won't get drunk tonight?

8:24 : Philly mayor Nutter is leaning out of his car moonroof, saying tonight is historic. PA really appears to be decided for Obama.

8:29 : My old hood, lovely New Hampshire has been called for Obama. Sen. McCain has reportedly opened his first bottle of Xanax.

Call this a hunch but I think this is going to be a landslide. But don't quote me on that.

8:37 : Obama maintains lead in Florida and North Carolina. CNN is calling Pennsylvania for Obama now. I am proud of my state. Chicago is beginning to smell blood.

8:43 : They are showing McCain headquarters. Some old guy just began to sing on stage. He doesn't look familiar. Must be one of them country music boys.

8:46 : McCain's senior campaign advisor just gave what appeared to be a concession speech on NBC.

8:49 : Obama is still ahead in Florida 52 to 48. I failed to note how much had been counted. I would have made a horrible reporter.

8:53 : I don't know if this means anything to ya'll but Republican Elizabeth Dole has been defeated in her race for the North Carolina senatorial seat. The reason this is significant is because Dole ran a campaign accusing her opponent, Democrat Kay Hagan of being "Godless" and hobnobbing with "atheists". And she lost. In North Carolina.

8:56 : The Republican campaign manager in Delaware county, PA is refusing to believe PA is lost for McCain. He wishes to wait for more numbers to come in. I applaud his optimism and wish him a safe ride to his home, where he is no doubt expecting to find a beautiful woman waiting for him in bed who will turn out to be a heiress to a billion dollar fortune, none of which was invested in Wall Street.

9:01 : CNN calls New York, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Rhode Island for Obama.

9:03 : Obama leads McCain 174 to 49. 270 Gives you the presidency.

9:05 : Obama supporters gathered in Chicago have now begun to shed various articles of attire and dance in a sensual suggestive manner in preparation for the massive orgy of hedonistic celebration that is expected to commence in a few hours.

9:08 : Arkansas goes to McCain. No word yet on whether McCain has accepted it.

9:10 : Alabama walks over and joins Arkansas on the McCain side. Sen. McCain pretends not to notice. It's about time, he grumbles under his breath.

9:12 : Georgia goes to McCain. Indiana has remained steady with McCain leading Obama 52 to 48 with 60% counted. Not sure if Indy and Gary votes have been accounted for yet. Florida looks like it is going to Obama with 50% counted already. If Florida goes to Barack, the night is over.

9:18 : New Hampshire gets a democratic governor. So does Nevada.

9:21 : Don't know how I missed Michigan. Okay let's do this again. Michigan goes for Obama.

9:22 : Obama is leading majorly in Ohio. Also in Antarctica. And the planet Zocon.

9:24 : Over at McCain headquarters, Hank Williams is singing a song without a melody. Wolf Blitzer just walked off claiming to have a major projection for us when we return after the break. This could be it.

9:27 : McCain's campaign advisor is blaming everything on the Republican party. And you can too. Go ahead, compile a list of all your recent transgressions and blame them all on the GOP.

9:33 : Ohio goes to Obama. It is over. America will have its first black President ever. This blog is now calling the election for President-Elect Barack Obama.

9:35 : Virginia is closing up 50 to 50. I guess Fake Virginia votes are now coming in. This is gonna be a washout.

9:40 : CNN's John King is now picking random states, trying to find a way for McCain to still win this election. Don't bother, John.

9:42 : John King admitted defeat. He could only muster up 259 electoral votes. He then exhorted people on the West Coast to go out there and vote vote vote *cough* for McCain *cough* so as to keep this circus going till the crack of dawn.

9:46 : I am going to Fox News with a cup in which I shall gather Brit Hume's tears.

9:52 : New Mexico. Obama. Muchas gracias amigos.

Dinner Break. Back in 10.

10:20 : Iowa Obama. Texas McCain.

10:22 : Democrat Al Franken is leading Republican Norm Coleman 44 to 39 in Minnesota for the senatorial seat. The reason for my interest in this particular race is because Al Franken is the guy who first piqued my interest in US politics through his excellent book "Lies and the Lying Liars who tell them". It's a really great funny book. I'm not lying. I hope he wins.

10:29 : Turns out white people like Obama. Perhaps they like me too.

10:32 : Obama is still leading in Florida with 72% counted. I think once he is done with being president he could move down there and rule as an Afro-Jewish warlord.

10:39 : Things have quieted down a bit in the CNN newsroom, allowing John King some leisure time to play with his high-tech gizmos. Campbell Brown looks on approvingly.

10:42 : Karl Rove's flesh folds are on Fox News right now. Not sure what they are saying.

10:58 :Virginia goes to Obama. This is historic. This is huge.

10:59 : CNN projects President Barack Obama.

Good job people. You deserve it.

And by you, I mean John McCain and Sarah Palin.

Time now to go and gloat on the right wing blogs.

Over and out.

11:25 : Alright I am back.

11:26 : McCain is giving his concession speech. Says, "I don't know what I could have done to run a better campaign." Hmm...let me count the number of ways....

11:27 : Is it me or is Cindy McCain totally color blind?

11:28 : Bye bye Sarah Palin. You were a nice little footnote in American history. A great diversion, thankfully short-lived. Hopefully we will never hear from you ever again.

Four years ago, as I was watching the proceedings of the 2004 Democratic convention, this skinny black guy no one knew walked up to the podium and delivered the keynote address. I did not know who this guy was but boy, did he grab me with his words, style and demeanour. The moment his speech ended, I turned to my wife and said to her, "Listen to me wife and listen to me good for what I say to you is the truth and nothing but. This man is going to be the next president of the US". True story.

11:47 : McCain was gracious in his concession. But it didn't fly with me. Hopefully Obama is a better man than I am. Now we are waiting for Obama to speak.

11:51 : Throngs of people have gathered outside the White House. Perhaps many of them are under the impression that Barack will be moving in today itself. Someone in the White House is feeling mighty unloved.

11:57 : President-Elect Barack Obama is on stage. We are officially in the future.

12:08 : Obama : "I will listen to you, especially when we disagree."

And so it begins.

What will it be?

Viva La Revolucion or Viva Viagra?

If we are lucky, we will know in 5 hours.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Do not vote

I have never really grasped this popular concept that the act of "voting" is noble in itself. Come election season, people keep telling each other to go out there and vote, no matter who they vote for. In fact, I just saw Obama do that. He went on the tv and asked viewers to make sure that they vote tomorrow, even if it was for McCain. Why would Obama say that? How would somebody voting for McCain be good for Obama? When he is out campaigning, Obama asks people to vote for him. But those are just his supporters. Shouldn't he also reach out to the other side of the aisle and tell McCain supporters that it would be best if they just stayed home?

The fact is, voting is highly overrated. Voting has been put up on a pedestal. Everybody runs around saying voting is good for democracy. I say fuck democracy, voting is only good if it is serving the country and its people. And the country and its people would be best served if only those who were about to vote for the better candidate did so while everybody else stayed home and played monopoly. Just like cholesterol, there is good voting and bad voting. The purpose of voting is to elect the better candidate. If everybody voted, including supporters of the crappy candidate, how would that be beneficial for the country?

Saying that everybody voting in an election is good for the country is like having two guys in a toilet, one taking dumps at regular intervals, the other flushing away the mess and telling both of them they are doing a wonderful job and to keep at it because it is this combination of shitting and flushing that is keeping the democracy of the toilet in a state of vibrancy. But really, let's be honest here, the shitter's not helping at all. He's just an impediment to the general hygiene of the toilet. In fact, it would be better for everybody concerned if the shitter were to quit shitting so that the flusher could be of any benefit to society by returning the toilet to its state of turdless equilibrium.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that if you are a McCain supporter and you are thinking of voting for John McCain just because you feel obligated to do so, because you feel it is your duty as a responsible citizen to vote, then please don't. You'll only be causing grievous harm to the process. Don't listen to those jackasses who are trying to emotionally blackmail you into voting. Trust me, you would be performing a huge service for your country if you did not vote. I would also say that people like me who are not eligible to vote should do their bit by trying to dissuade their friends from voting who they know are gonna vote for John McCain.

Tomorrow's an important day. If you are a resident of the US and if you are a McCain supporter, please do your part and stay home. And if you are an Obama supporter, keep as many McCain supporters from voting as you can. That is what the founding fathers would have wanted you to do. To hell with democracy. Democracy gave us George W. Bush. Let's try something different this time.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

I'm still awake. The Fox29 people just said good night and fuck off already but my tv is still on in the hopes of seeing someone somewhere still talking about the Phillies World Series win. Let's see if ESPN is still talking about the World Series. No, ESPN has an Obama ad on. Fuck the election. Who the heck cares about the economy, the war and the possibility of having to give up my home to my bank and living on the street? Not me. Cause it is Phillies night. Fox is still showing highlights of the win even though the anchors have departed and are quite possibly fornicating in the green room. They are a sexy horny bunch. My bottle of Jack is down to its last three gulps. I am still awake. I'll probably have to go downstairs to get some beer.

I wish I lived in metro Philly. I would have loved to go outside and set a few SUVs on fire. But as it stands right now, I live in the suburbs where people have garages and fire extinguishers and therefore, I shall have to be satisfied with listening to fireworks from a distance. Although some jackass did drive by my home honking his car horn. Also, I could hear drunk people in the townhouse across the street who appeared to be very happy. Yeah, here in the suburbs, we support the Phillies too in our sheltered pusillanimous way. Perhaps I shall indeed attend the Phillies victory parade wearing my new World Series cap as was suggested.

Anyways, I'll drink the rest of the Jack, wait till everybody on tv stops talking about the Phillies and then go to sleep. I will see you tomorrow.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

All of metropolitan Philadelphia is out on the streets right now. The temperature is almost down to freezing. People are screaming and jumping around like maniacs. Police are standing by on building terraces in case the city decides to burn itself to the ground. It is a crazy scene at Broad and Oregon.

After Lidge got the final strike out, I jumped up and hit the ceiling. Then I raised my face to the heavens and let out a yell. Then I went outside, raised my face to the real heavens, not the ceiling and let out another yell. It was exciting to yell with a purpose rather than just yell randomly as I have been doing till now. I doubt anyone in Philadelphia and its suburbs is going to sleep tonight.

The fans in the stadium booed commissioner Bud Selig as he was handing out the trophy tonight. They don't forgive and forget, these Philadelphians. I think this city is insane. This is what the Inquirer is reporting right now :

Fans outside Citizens Bank Park in Lot M at Pattison Avenue and Darien Street were breaking bottles on cars and attempting to light an SUV on fire 40 minutes after the final pitch in the Phillies first World Series win in 28 years. Police quickly arrived and started to disperse the crowd. The crowd started mixing it up with the police. By then, the crowd had also completely overturned a green Ford Explorer.
Yeah, even our hooligans are environmentally conscious. When they need to celebrate something, the first thought that crosses their mind is, "Goddamn, I gotta get myself a gas-guzzling, greenhouse gas emitting SUV to overturn and incinerate."

Area stores are already ready with World Series Championship merchandise to sell. I've been needing a cap for a while now. I did not buy it. I decided to wait for the 2008 Phillies World Series Championship cap to come out. I knew it was a long shot, but my patience and confidence paid off. Tomorrow I go buy myself that cap. I think I'm not gonna get any sleep tonight.
So how about them Phillies?

Your turn to win it all now, Barack.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Surprising factoid of the day

Two of my colleagues, both staunch Republicans, have confided to me that John McCain's pick of Sarah Palin as his vice president convinced them to vote for Barack Obama.

I guess Americans are not as batshit insane as McCain was counting on them to be.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Ganesha-shaped growth

Here is a nice link to start off your day. It talks about a guy from New York, Sam Lal, who made horto-theological history by managing to cultivate the Hindu God Ganesha in his backyard. It turns out that a flower in his backyard assumed the form of an elephant's head and trunk which he immediately recognized as the popular deity.This flower deity then went ahead and cured him of all his ills including some kind of spine ailment.

It must be admitted, however, that Sam Lal reached the conclusion that this elephant shaped flower in his backyard was actually Ganesha only after a rigorous examination of the facts. "For it to have that long trunk like this is not a natural thing," he said, speaking from experience as a person usually surrounded by short things.

With this month of October being uncommonly cold, Lal is now protecting Ganesha from the frosty nights by covering Him with the "shimmering translucent veil of the Heavenly Apsaras flanking Lord Shiva on each side as He meditates high atop Mount Kailash", or what is colloquially known as plastic foil.

(Above : Sam Lal, respectfully reaching out to grab Ganesha's trunk)

But Sam Lal is a generous man who is not possessive about his home-grown Gods. He has thrown open his backyard to fellow Flower Pilgrims. One of them, Hansannie Singh, of Queens, on being confronted with the Ganesha Flower said, "I'm amazed - I actually got goosebumps when I saw it." Unfortunately for Hansannie Singh, not a single one of those goosebumps resembled a Hindu deity.

Another believer Kris Ram, snapped cellphone pictures of the flower God. Immediately thereafter, his cellphone was rid of its intermittent bizarre behavior where it would make a "ringing" noise , followed by a human like voice saying what appeared to be "howl howl". "This is really happening", said Kris Ram, "Ganesha cured my cellphone. Now I can snap pictures in peace".

Uddit Patel, 17, said the flower definitely made him a believer. "I was astounded," he said. "It's proof there is a God". Refusing to rest on his laurels, Patel later went on to prove how the existence of flowers that do not look like Ganesha prove that there is no God. His cousin, Deepesh Patel, 25, was similarly ecstatic. "I'll never see anything like this in my lifetime," he said. "Oh wait, what is that, is that...bread? In sliced form? I never thought I would see anything like that in my lifetime."

The amazing plant story has been picked up by news media around the world, particularly in India, home to 1 billion Hindus, who reacted by saying, "Whaaa? So this Ganesha-shaped rock that I've been worshiping all this time wasn't really Him?"

Thursday, October 16, 2008

And then

And now the cops are in northeastern Philly. They are here to arrest the two thousand or so Philadelphians who are out on the streets. The loyal residents of this city are now celebrating this great victory in the proper manner by climbing onto light poles and signboards. This is how Philadelphians express joy. Not by giving each other hugs and high fives but by attempting to scale the highest point in the vicinity of where joy was experienced.

As I watch from the Fox29 chopper, I see a few people performing calisthenics on the street, using this activity as an outlet for their happiness. It is heartwarming to see health-consciousness intrude even upon such a momentous occasion. And they call Philadelphia one of the most obese cities in the US. To that, I say pah. Pah to you, sir. I say, before you call us obese, get on a fucking chopper and watch us perform calisthenics in the middle of the night just because we won the fucking pennant.

The Fox29 reporter informs us that she has a bunch of beer in her hair. She also adds that she heard somewhere that beer is good for her hair. Perhaps that is what is keeping her from sucking it out.

The crowds on the street are now increasing in number. Fox29 is telling me that people are getting rowdier and bottles are being thrown. Now the police are asking me to shut off my tv in order to avoid encouraging the crowd from performing for the camera. I did not know Philadelphians valued my attention so much. Behave, Philly. Now I know why our sports teams haven't won anything for a long time. It's a conspiracy by law enforcement authorities to keep us from rioting and destroying our own homes.


The Philadelphia Phillies won the final presidential debate against John McCain. Sarah Palin flied out to catcher Carlos Ruiz on the final play of the game and then everything went crazy and everybody ran out of the dugout and then there was champagne and video cameras covered with plastic foil and tears of happiness and beautiful MVPs accepting trophies. Firecrackers exploded in the dead of the night and tequila was injected into the bloodstream.

In other news, Barack Obama is going to the baseball World Series.

Thursday, October 09, 2008


Today I kept seeing the news of the stock market crash on CNN on my way to the sports section. Don't judge me, the Phillies begin their seven game journey to the World Series today. So they say that the stock market has crashed and burned. Today the DOW Jones fell below 9000, whatever that means. I remember those days of above 10,000 DOW with sad nostalgia as if it were yesterday. But what does this mean for the average person? Am I gonna lose my job? Am I gonna be poor? What will I eat? I decided to test the edibility of various things I might have to eat when I am poor. I found a packet of Burger King onion ring sauce on my bookshelf. It's been here for a while. I tore it open and sucked it down. It tasted of stale oil but when you got past the taste, it was quite filling. Ten of those per day should provide me with the necessary vitamins and folic acid to lead a relatively non-toxic life.

I checked my 401K balance yesterday. The pretty lady on CNN advised me not to because she said she was concerned about my cardiac health. But it's like watching a car wreck on the highway, I had to do it regardless of the warnings. After checking the numbers and doing some calculations, I discovered that I am getting a 401K personal return of -47% on my investments. I guess what it means is that for each dollar I invest, I get to keep 53 cents. It seems like a good deal until you consider the fact that if I had kept that money under the mattress instead, I could have kept the entire dollar for myself. Plus it would have removed the wrinkles from those bills.

But there is a silver lining to the ominous clouds of terror gathering on the economic horizon. My new home has apparently increased in value. After dropping like a stone from the moment I bought it, my home value has not only regained its original loss but also climbed up an additional two thousand dollars in the past two months. Hopefully it means that my walls are slowly turning into gold or something. In which case, I will probably tear them down, melt them into gold bullion (which is easier to hoard) and plant new walls. It is indeed a blessing that walls are a sustainable natural resource.

Friday, October 03, 2008

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Okay then.

Beginning tomorrow, politics will return to its former home.

What Biden ought to say

What Joseph Biden ought to say tonight during the debate.

God that was cathartic.

Update : Also, a slideshow on how Biden is preparing for his debate. (via ggop in comments).

Tuesday, September 30, 2008


McCain camp prays for a Palin wedding. (via)

Hello America, that's how stupid this McCain guy thinks you are. He believes that when you see his vice president's daughter get married on television, you'll be so awed with the spectacle that come election day, you'll still be thinking of that wedding and will vote for McCain because it will be his vice president's daughter's wedding that you will be thinking of.

America, please tell me McCain is wrong and you're not that stupid.

It is a scam. You know, they keep telling us that there is no such thing as a free credit report sandwich till they are blue in the face, but do we care? No. We are people enamored by the free stuff and we keep hoping. And then we log onto websites that begin with the word "free" and may or may not end with the word "creditreport" or "videos" and we sign up for everything they have to offer. And then we get computer viruses, spyware and sometimes, chickenpox.

Now these here folks with, they will provide you with a "free" credit report and initially, all will be well. Your free credit report will inform you that you have exceptional credit and that you belong in the elite top 5 percentile of the mindless American consumer demographic and you bask in the glow of being an asset to the economy. But then, after a week, you check your credit card bill and you see that some asshole has billed you for $14.95. Then you make some inquiries and it turns out that it is in fact the folks at who have "charged" you a "fee" of $14.95. Apparently when you signed up for your free credit report and were making plans to take it out to dinner and a movie, you also signed up for a credit monitoring service that wasn't free and who the heck knows what else. Now everyday, you have to check your credit card online to see what else you signed up for on that unfortunate evening.

Now here's the irony. The reason you signed up for the free credit report in the first place was so you wouldn't have to keep checking your daily credit card activity for vague amounts charged by companies such as the very same free credit report company you signed up with. Scam. And fuck you, funny song guy. I am no longer sympathetic to your bad credit woes.

That bad?

Here's how I know we are fucked. The folks on my morning radio show, who usually discuss cleavage and its effects on localized inflation, today, had a finance guy over to educate listeners on the bailout and its consequences on the economy. Of course, there was still some humor, but it was dark humor, the kind where you are making the funny on the outside but weeping tears of blood on the inside. When Preston and Steve stop talking boobs and talk economy instead, it is time to curl up in a corner and start believing in God.

Here's an additional reason to curl up in a corner.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Here she comes, Miss Alaska

COURIC: Why isn’t it better, Governor Palin, to spend $700 billion helping middle-class families who are struggling with health care, housing, gas and groceries? Allow them to spend more, and put more money into the economy, instead of helping these big financial institutions that played a role in creating this mess?

PALIN: That’s why I say I, like every American I’m speaking with, were ill about this position that we have been put in. Where it is the taxpayers looking to bail out. But ultimately, what the bailout does is help those who are concerned about the health care reform that is needed to help shore up our economy. Um, helping, oh, it’s got to be about job creation, too. Shoring up our economy, and getting it back on the right track. So health care reform and reducing taxes and reining in spending has got to accompany tax reductions, and tax relief for Americans, and trade — we have got to see trade as opportunity, not as, uh, competitive, um, scary thing, but one in five jobs created in the trade sector today. We’ve got to look at that as more opportunity. All of those things under the umbrella of job creation.


Archival footage from Ms. Palin's early career :

Interviewer: Recent polls have shown a fifth of Americans can't locate the United States on a world map. Why do you think this is?

Sarah Palin: "I personally believe the U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uh, some, uh...people out there in our nation don't have maps, and, uh, I believe that our education like such as South Africa and, uh, the Iraq everywhere like, such as and...I believe that they should, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S., err, uh, should help South Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries, so we will be able to build up our future for our...

(Disclaimer : Model shown not really Sarah Palin. Also, this website is not supported or approved by the Obama for America campaign.)

Thought of the day

When Democrats try to justify the selection of Joseph Biden as vice presidential candidate, they argue that he is a good selection because he has the necessary skills for the job. When Republicans try to justify the selection of Sarah Palin as vice presidential candidate, they argue that she is a good selection because she will help McCain win the election.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Ice cream

Not a big fan and this ain't helping.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


Here's how criminally insane some Americans are. I was witness to the dispensation of this nugget of expert political analysis from one American to another while working out in the gym. It went like this :

Joe Biden has spent a number of years in the US Senate. Joe Biden's net worth is a mere $150,000. Senators typically earn a lot of money. Joe Biden in particular, who is the senator from Delaware, should have earned even more money through kickbacks from all those credit card companies that call Delaware their home. Since Joe Biden's net worth does not adequately reflect all those kickbacks that he surely must have received, Joe Biden is hiding something and therefore, is highly untrustworthy as a vice presidential candidate.

Are these people for real? If so, God Bless America.

Friday, September 19, 2008


Wait, wait, don't retire those ads yet. Explain to me first what the heck they were trying to say.

Revised Godwin's Law

Revised Godwin's Law (now renamed as GodNoWin's law) :

"As a Usenet discussion grows longer, the probability of it turning into an argument regarding the existence of God approaches one."

Case study here.

This law has been so named because once a debate has reached that asymptotic state of ineffectual equilibrium, it turns into a no-win situation for either debater because of :

1.> Pro-God faction beginning to think and say ungodly things about anti-God faction.
2.> Anti-God faction wishing there were a God and that He would rain lightning upon Pro-God faction.

Thursday, September 18, 2008


Look, I am not overly concerned about the fact that Senator John McCain seems to be unaware of whether Spain is a friendly European country or a hostile rogue nation. What I AM however worried about is the possibility of the following scenario.

The hour is 7:30ish in the evening. Vice President Sarah Palin has just wheeled President John McCain out of his bathroom and the cavalcade is now proceeding towards his bedroom where her job is to tuck him in and give him his medication.

Tonight the President seems perturbed. Managing, with considerable effort, to rotate his neck through an angle of 2 degrees, he whispers to her,

"Elizabeth, come over to my left side where I can still hear you."

The Vice President has already accepted the fact that at various times, she's going to have to answer to the names Elizabeth, Linda, Sheryl, Babs, Shaneneh and Cindy. Sighing, she walks over to his left side, bends down and speaks slowly and clearly into his ear.

"Yes, Mr President, what is it, do you need your bedpan to be changed?"

"No", replies the President. "I am wearing my big boy pants today. This is about Spain."

"What about Spain?" asks Ms Palin.

The President appears to have fallen into a trance. Palin repeats the question, this time nudging his shoulder.

"What about Spain, Mr President?"

President McCain manages to shake his gaze from the framed picture of him and his buddy, the previous president, that now hangs over the entrance to his bedroom and sighs. Yes, those were some good times.

"Yes, Spain. Don't listen to what they say about Spain, Brittany", mutters the President. "Spain is a scoundrel. Spain flew those planes into those buildings."

Palin appears uncertain. "Are you sure, Mr President? Where are you getting this information from?"

McCain pauses. "I heard someone mention it to me the other day."

Palin is still unsure about the validity of this information.

"Who was it, Mr President?", inquires Ms Palin. "Let me go talk to this person."

President McCain shakes his head.

"I don't know who it was, Scarlett, it happened while I was in the bathtub. It almost sounded like this person was right inside my head."

Vice President Palin is ecstatic. Historically, there's been only one person in this world endowed with the magical ability to enter people's heads and offer them advice on foreign policy matters. She realizes that like herself and his predecessor, the President has been conversing with God. Although it required an extreme decrepitude of the President's body and mind to reach that blessed state of being on speaking terms with the Maker, Vice President Palin is happy that he's finally reached it.

"Hallelujah, Mr President. I am very excited and happy for you. You have finally been reborn into a true Christian. Now let me go inform the Joint Chiefs of staff about this new development."

The next morning, Madrid wakes up in a pile of its own rubble. The War on Terror is finally won.

And this, my friends, is what I am worried about.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The Steak Wars

The Subway is my friend. As has been documented extensively on this blog, it is pretty much my only source of animal protein within a two mile radius and that is about equal to the length of my work leash. Anything farther than two miles and it tugs hard on my neck and like in the movies, the car moves ahead without me and I fly out through the rear windshield and fall on the road and you can hear the theater audience laugh it up.

So anyways, the Subway is my best friend forever, or as the kids call it nowadays, my BFF. Now I am a huge steak fan. And Subway used to have this sandwich called the "Steak and Cheese" sub. It cost about five and a half bucks, which was quite reasonable for a blue-collar worker such as I. Then, Quizno's, who is Subway's main challenger in this part of the world, discovered the wonders of television advertising and they began to air these commercials where people would hold a subway and a Quizno's sandwich side by side and scoff derisively at the Subway. Prominently featured was the steak and cheese sub which looked somewhat anemic when juxtaposed with the Quizno's beefier steak sandwich. The final straw that broke Subway's back was a commercial that featured an Oriental woman who rejected a subway sandwich, saying, "I'm a woman, I like my meat" or something to that effect. Now, anyone who's been rejected by an Oriental woman who claims that your meat cannot satisfy her, knows that this can cause all your cell membranes to spontaneously dissolve into a pool of protoplasm and all that is left inside you is a burning pain somewhat like the one you experience during a urinary tract infection. Also, it makes you want to increase the size of your meat in a hope that perhaps this new and improved meat will be better worth a woman's while.

So that is what Subway did. They discarded their older thin sliced steak and cheese sandwich and came up with a brand new one with a thicker cut of steak. And since they were now supplying the world with more meat, they obviously had to raise the price of this sandwich to six and a half bucks. Honestly, I didn't need more meat. I was okay with the previous meat. But hey, if it had to be so, then I guess it would be so. And the new sandwich was a hit. The women quit complaining about inadequate meat and all was right in Subway's world.

So then, Quizno's had to step right back in because it is common knowledge that if you and the other guy have the same size meat, the woman's gonna go to the one who buys her more clothes and takes her to Paris. So Quizno's now began to advertise a novel new sandwich called the "Prime Rib Sandwich with Au Jus". Oh those women. Just can't resist anything on the menu with a French accent. So they went back to Quizno's. Subway was aghast. And you know why? Because the thick cut sandwich Subway had just introduced that they were calling a "steak and cheese", was in fact, to be medically accurate, a prime rib sandwich in the first place. But hey, what the eff, mistakes can be rectified.

So overnight, the Subway "steak and cheese" miraculously turned into a "Prime Rib" sandwich. Praise the Lord!

But sadly, these developments did not have the intended effect on women that Subway had hoped they would. Women continued to stay away. Subway had become a Johnny come lately and women want no part of a Johnny come lately. Late yes, lately no.

So then Subway retired to his parents' basement to ponder over the intricate workings of the feminine mind and to come up with a plan of attack for wooing them over. Summer turned into fall and then winter. Finally, when the first water of Spring broke, it saw a disheveled Subway emerging from his underground cave with a notepad in his hand. "I have it", he exclaimed. "But let me first relieve my bladder".

I was excited to see what Subway had come up with. For, like women, I like my meat too and because of the leash and everything, whatever Subway does has a huge impact on my life. On the day Subway was to reveal the grand new sandwich, I drove to the place wondering what it would be. An ostrich burger with kangaroo bacon and tiger penis mayo? That sounded delicious.

As I walked up to the Subway, I saw a big sign on the door. Beginning today, Subway was offering "The Big Philly Cheesesteak" piled high with meat and cheese. Yes, regionalism, that might possibly work with the fairer sex. The boy next door approach, eh? Wouldn't hurt to try. Also, as a side note, the "Big Philly Cheesesteak" sandwich was so big, so monstrously huge that Subway had been forced to set its price at eight and a half American dollars. That's how gigantic this sandwich was. "Boy oh boy", I said to myself, "if it costs twice as much as the amount I am legally allowed to spend on my lunch everyday, this has GOT to be the most breathtaking sandwich ever".

And it was tasty, let there be no doubts about that. But as I was hammering away at it, I couldn't help but shake off the vague feeling that I knew this sandwich from before. But how could I? I had never ever seen a "Big Philly Cheesesteak" on the menu before. Perhaps from a previous life? "Nah, I must be mistaken", I said, as I wiped my mouth with my shirt sleeve and got up to leave. And then, just as I was releasing the door handle, it hit me. I knew where I had seen that sandwich before. In this very place. It was the original "Steak and Cheese" sandwich that Subway had withdrawn from service after having been accused of meat deficiency. The very same five and a half dollar sandwich. Now selling for eight and a half bucks. And being touted as "Big".

So what is the moral of the story? The moral of the story is Women! They drive the country's economy. I will be the first one to admit that. They are the reason malls, department stores, shopping carts and penis enlargers were invented and we should all be grateful for that. But they are also the reason why the fucking corporations can charge whatever ridiculous amount of money they want for anything and get the fuck away with it.

The Steak Wars are a testament to it.

The Phils

Just like last year, the Phillies are back in first place in the NL East, only this time there still are eleven more games to go. Will they keep it up or slack off? Could this be the year? Will Santa be visiting South Philly in October? Stay tuned. Not here, because this is not a sports blog. Try ESPN or something.

Also, a belated Fuck you, Cowboys.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Bat out of hell

It is things like these that remind me of that Meatloaf song "Life is a lemon and I want my money back".
They also make me want to :
  1. Run headfirst into a brick wall.
  2. Swallow Gillette Mach3 razors or since they insist, their newest ones with 5 blades.
  3. Fist bump a cactus plant.
  4. Commit other random acts of violence on my own person.

Friday, September 12, 2008

For all your foreign policy needs

Dear Sarah Palin,

Have you ever been in a position where you were running for vice president and being interviewed on a network special and the host asked you a question about the current president's foreign policy and because you didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, you came off looking like a goddamn retard on television?

We at have come up with a book specifically to avoid such a situation. It is called "Foreign Policy for Dummies" and we currently have a running special where, if you are a vice presidential candidate, you would only have to pay shipping and handling. The reason being, we are an American company and when John McCain keels over and dies in his second year as president, it would be in our best interests for you to have our book as a reference.

This book is beautifully illustrated with pictures of various farmyard animals. It is in large type and contains only words of a single syllable. It has an extended glossary with definitions of various obscure words and phrases you might come in contact with during your term as vice president such as "Sunni", "Shia", "The Bush Doctrine", "Iraq", and "Vice President".

The back cover of the book also doubles as a honorary Vice-Presidential diploma that you will receive once you manage to read the book to the very end. Just tear it off, get it framed and hang it on the wall of your office. Frame not included. Now when anyone in the liberal media asks you about your qualifications for the second-most important job position in the world, you can show it to them with pride and confidence.

All the best and we look forward to hearing from you.

Best regards,

Thursday, September 11, 2008

CNN brings on the stupid

What's with this fucking nonsense?

The Rachel Maddow Show

Tired of watching angry white conservative men talk shit about your favorite black presidential candidate on television? Here's Rachel Maddow on MSNBC. This young liberal white woman will take on that sleazy old bastard with the creepy smile who's also running for president and fuck his shit up. She will fuck his shit up in style and she will smile at you all throughout the shit-fucking. Watch her every night and give liberalism a chance on TV.

That is all.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Eagles season opener

McNabb looked confident. Nimble of step and strong of arm, perhaps a bit too strong in a few instances. His throws looked like they might have injured someone.

The offensive line was quite magnificent.

The receivers dominated. Jackson was a revelation. For once, the Eagles look like they have a good receiving corps that does not include someone named Owens. The one caveat is that coach Andy Reid should not get too excited about his receivers to such an extent that he discards the running game altogether. If you hand the ball to Brian Westbrook, he will do awesome things with it.

The defense looked ravenous. Perhaps they had not been fed in a week. I am glad they remembered to spit Marc Bulger out after they swallowed him those couple of times. They need to stay hungry for the next game at Dallas.

Friday, September 05, 2008

Disturbing Google search hit of the day

"Brain keeps falling out"

Nothing in particular

I haven't biked at all this summer. What the hell happened to summer anyways? It's been freaking cold for the past few days. Leaves are already falling off and shit. Is it global cooling? Or is the dark dank despair of the Republican convention weighing on mother nature's mind? Or perhaps it is Rudy Giuliani's shiny white toothy smirk that's been reflecting sunlight into space and onto Mars where they need it more? What is wrong with Giuliani anyways? He sounded quite demented the other day on stage. And why all that giggling? Rudolph, would you have giggled thusly when the towers came down on 9/11? There, I said 9/11. That, of course, is in response to your bitter complaint that the Democrats didn't mention 9/11 even once during their convention. Happy now? Oh fuck, there are those blinding white teeth again. By the way, why would you show the New York skyline at a Republican presidential convention? The skyline of a city, 80% of which requested you to kindly go fuck yourself in the 2004 presidential election?

But anyways, fuck politics, I haven't biked all summer. My folks are here, visiting me. For the first time in the past 8 years or so. Their attitude towards life has changed quite a bit. They used to be big on traveling and seeing things. Now all they want is to go to malls and department stores. But I guess they've already seen most of the world and there's nothing that can excite them anymore. Now my dad's idea of a nice day out is to hang out in Home Depot gawking at toolboxes. My mom's day is made when we visit the Indian grocery. I would like to take them somewhere through the use of brute force, but it's a challenge for me to think of something they haven't already seen. I'm hoping for some geological oddity to suddenly appear in this part of the world, like, say, a volcano in the Poconos or maybe somebody could find a hitherto undiscovered tropical rain forest in south Philly. I am entirely out of ideas.

So we go to the Indian store. They have decent frozen chapatis.

My garden has blossomed under my dad's regime. He is a garden guy. One result is that my lawn looks awesome because he waters it everyday, come rain or shine. The other day it was about to rain and I yelled out to my dad outside, watering the lawn. "Dad stop watering, it's gonna rain". Dad yelled back, "It's okay, I have an umbrella". I did wait a couple of months hoping this would actually happen before making it up. Sadly, it never did because it would have been a great anecdote to narrate to random people on the internet.

I also have a tomato forest growing on my deck. Back in spring, I purchased a packet of tomato seeds and planted them all, believing that with my vast experience in killing healthy plants, I would be lucky to have but a single one alive by the end of summer. But with my dad in charge, all of them managed to grow and stay alive and now it's like a daycare center out there, only with juvenile tomato plants. They are a rowdy bunch. They fight with one other for the sunlight, block out each other's rays, fall onto the jalapeno who gets needlessly dragged into the fight. Man, they are a handful. I can't wait till they mature, sprout a few tomatoes and move out into their own soil.

I bought a bird feeder for my deck. It is my way of giving something back to society. The Republicans, with their free market-based poverty, don't care about feeding indigent and homeless birds and the Democrats are too busy feeding "people". I have been told that the birdhouse has been embraced and well patronized by blue jays, cardinals, chickadees, goldfinches and in my father's words, "black bird that was definitely not a crow"s. I haven't seen a single bird. Apparently my birdhouse only sees action during the early morning hours.

I guess that's it for now. Thank you, come again.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

On Sarah Palin

Shorter John McCain :

"Sorry America, but she was the best looking pro-life creationist woman we could find in two days to take over the presidency just in case I croak. But hey, don't worry, I ain't going anywhere. I'm only 63 or 73, I keep forgetting which."

The Goose Egg Fantasy Football league

Should I do it? Would anyone be interested? Let me know by a show of hands.

Friday, August 15, 2008


Not a word. Deal with it.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Man servant

Let's say that as I go about my daily routine of being valuable to the world, some guy I didn't know from Adam were to approach me and say to me, hello gawker, how is it going, I heard the good news about your PS3 and your TV, and by the way, for some unfathomable reason, I would like to be your man servant for the duration of your lifetime and so, please to let me know what you would like me to do.

Now, let's assume, for the purpose of discussion, that this guy were to have the softest of skin, the tenderest of lips and muscular arms, capable of vigorous to and fro action for at least five consecutive minutes. For many of you, the choice of chore for this man-servant would be an obvious one to make.

I would beg to differ, though. For a long time, I have wished to hire a man-servant to perform one daily task for me and just that one task. And that is the assignment of every morning, walking into my closet and picking out my attire for the day.

For I hate my wardrobe with a joyless passion. Some day, after I have moved into a new house or a retirement community or homeless shelter, I would like to burn it down. It's because I have the worst taste in clothes. My taste in clothes is so awful that after I purchase an article of clothing, I do not buy anything else for a long time in the fear that it will be even worse than what I had previously purchased. And that is why at least ten minutes of every single morning of my life are spent in mulling over which one of my clothes I hate the least on that particular day. Ten minutes of time that would be better spent smelling the roses, watching morning mist unfurl from dew-covered grass or pouring concrete into a foundation.

I am sick of deciding what to wear each day. I want someone to make my choice for me. I need someone to decide if I should wear a coffee stain or deodorant residue. If I should be loud of color, bright of stripe or carry around with me the rank odor of two unwashed weeks. These are tough decisions and someone has to make them. I've been in this game for a while now and now I think it is time for me to retire. My constitution cannot handle it anymore. Life is short and I feel it should not be spent trying to decide what to wear. Some people are made for it while some aren't. I am not. If you ordered me to wear a potato sack to work, I would do it happily, no questions asked. But if it were left to me, I would waste half the morning trying to decide between Idaho and Russet potatoes. It is a sad state of affairs.

So that's what I need someone to do for me. However, I do not wish to impose this thankless burden on a member of the fairer sex. Which is why I need a man-servant.

Are there any about? Soft skin and tender lips would be a definite plus.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Dear China

Dear Chinese Olympics Organizers,

You are fucking assholes. Kindly take your games and shove em up your ass.


Please Desist

On this issue of Please Desist, I hereby request the public to please desist from generating any more wisecracks having the following format :

"If I had a _____ for every ______, I would be ______."

This issue of Please Desist was inspired by some Republican chick on CNN saying :

"If I had a vat for every case of sour grapes from the Clintons, I would be drunk on wine right now."

So, please desist.


This blog partially endorses Circuit City who have agreed to replace my big screen tv that was struck down by an act of God who, honestly, is kind of a douchebag. The second half of my endorsement will take effect once the replacement television set is actually on my property.

This blog also endorses Best Buy who unquestioningly replaced my PS3 that also got douchebagged.

Finally, this blog endorses this Desi guy who has ably demonstrated the least feasible way of staying alive for more than 60 consecutive seconds.

(via FailBlog)

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Okay, God

Okay God, I get the message. You do not approve of me playing the PS3 or watching Blu-ray movies on my 55 inch HD TV or blogging about playing the PS3 and / or watching Blu-ray movies on my 55 inch HD TV. But seriously, oh Shepherd of Mankind, was it really necessary to convey your disapproval of my activities through the delivery of a monster thunderstorm that would generate a power surge gigantic enough to knock out my PS3, 55 inch HD tv and computer? Even when they were turned off? Seems like you really overdid it there, oh Savior of the Weak. Were you entertaining feminine company in your heavenly bachelor pad, the courtship of whom necessitated a show of brute machismo for establishing your manly credentials? Well, in that case, I understand.

But if that wasn't the case, dear Lord of Lords, next time please extend me the courtesy of delivering your messages to me either through the destruction of somebody else's property or through the psychedelic visions of your spokesperson on earth, Mr. George W. Bush. Of course, that is not a direct order, just a humble request.

PS : Since you did not destroy my refrigerator during the storm, I will assume that you do not disapprove of my beef and alcohol consumption.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Cave Creek Chili Beer

I think I finally found my beer. It is called Cave Creek Chili Beer. It combines the two loves of my life which are beer and spice. This is a spicy beer. I mean, it is actually spicy as in chili hot. The beer bottle itself contains a chili pepper hanging around in the beer like a drunken worm. I love the taste of this beer. Many a times have I wondered how to get drunk and satisfy the spice sensors on my tongue, both at the same time. I tried downing tequila shots followed by a spoonful of Andhra style hot lime pickle, but it did not hit the spot as I had hoped. Something seemed to be amiss. But when I drank this beer, the spot that had not been previously hit was not just hit, but blown into shreds. This beer helped me achieve my objective of getting spicily drunk. I like this beer and if you are Indian, Mexican or ancient Incan, you will like this beer too. The evil snobs at appear to think that it is a cruel joke perpetrated on the beer loving community by the Mexican mafia and are quite vehement in their criticism of this product. One guy even noted that the beer bottle contains "some sediment, perhaps dirt and chili pepper particles". I am sure the same guy would waste no time in praising a Belgian manufactured beer as "being earthy", and since we know that the earth is mostly composed of dirt and chili pepper particles, it would be a classic example of double standards.

But anyways, the long and the short of it is that I liked this beer. Go get some and let me know if you like it too.

PS : I forgot to mention that the motto of the brewery is "We drink all we can and sell the rest".

Also, do not eat the drunk chili pepper worm inside the bottle. It tastes like Sir Francis Drake's corpse.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008


You know, oftentimes it so happens that even though you might be extremely liberal in your social outlook and of the opinion that whatever people do in the privacy of their own bedrooms should be no one's business but theirs and of anyone else watching their archival footage, and even though you are all for homosexuals being treated like everybody else and being given their due rights, still, when you encounter somebody whose last name is "Gay", you cannot help but wonder and desperately hope that somehow, could this set of circumstances possibly lead to a humorous turn of events?

But usually nothing of the sort happens and you are left disappointed and frustrated, questioning Mother Nature's intention behind bestowing the moniker "Gay" upon someone without having anything funny to say about it.

And then just as you are getting ready to resign yourself to the incredible monotony of life, today, you read this (via PZ). Apparently, a sprinter whose name is "Tyson Gay", won the 100 meter dash at the US Olympic Track and Field trials. The American Family Association (or NAMBLA), a right-wing organization, reported on the event. Now, the AFA apparently feels that the word "gay" is an undesirable euphemism for referring to people who rightfully should be called what they are, namely, homosexual. I guess this is to preclude the younger generation from making any kind of subliminal association between homosexuality and happiness (being gay). Therefore, towards this purpose, the AFA appear to have added an auto-word-replace macro to their web-publishing that replaces the word "gay" with "homosexual" in every article they publish. You probably see where I'm going with this. This is the article the AFA published on their website :

Homosexual eases into 100 final at Olympic trials.

Tyson Homosexual easily won his semifinal for the 100 meters at the U.S. Olympic track and field trials and seemed to save something for the final later Sunday.

His wind-aided 9.85 seconds was a fairly cut-and-dry performance compared to what happened a day earlier. On Saturday, Homosexual misjudged the finish in his opening heat and had to scramble to finish fourth, then in his quarterfinal a couple of hours later, ran 9.77 to break the American record that had stood since 1999. […]

Homosexual didn’t get off to a particularly strong start in the first semifinal, but by the halfway mark he had established a comfortable lead. He slowed somewhat over the final 10 meters-nothing like the way-too-soon complete shutdown that almost cost him Saturday. Asked how he felt, Homosexual said: “A little fatigued.

So I guess that is it. Your wish for some guy named "Gay" to have something funny happen to him has finally been fulfilled. You may move on with your life now and look for funny elsewhere. I know I will.


Quite possibly the best comment I have ever received on this blog. An alternative explanation of "maadi" from an anonymous commenter :

"in punjabi " maa-di" has a very different connotation. The correct usage is "teri maa-di". It can be used to start as well as end arguments. It can also be used in the middle of an argument just before fistcuffs replace vocal cords. It is a very versatile phrase and can also be adapted to other situations - greeting, salutation, frustrations. But mostly it is a a unhappy and angry phrase, that blames 'yo mamma' for all that is wrong in this world."

Thursday, June 26, 2008


My sister, while signing off from an email conversation, called me a maadi. I am aware that in marathi, this word translates to "child-bearing female". Hopefully it means something else in Bangalore.


I think I am getting too vain about my biking prowess. Last weekend I did the Schuylkill trail again and it left me overflowing with vanity. Luckily for me, I was able to release some of this vanity into the atmosphere by bragging about it to my friend zambezi who unfortunately for him, called me when I had just completed the trail and was scarfing sambal shrimp in Penang. But there was still some amount of residual vanity left because the call ended prematurely before all the vanity had a chance to be vented. The disposal of this residual vanity had to wait a couple of days.

So then the other day, I was in this furniture store that was having a going out of business sale and I was looking at this table and the Chinese saleswoman asked me if I wished to take this table home today. I said that I couldn't because I had biked to the store. She said really, where had I biked from? I replied that I had biked from home, which was off Bob's road, did she know Bob's road? Apparently she did know Bob's road and she Ohed and Ahed and she looked damn impressed with my biking abilities which fucking irritated me. My frustration was due to two things. One, I had just completed the Schuylkill Trail the previous weekend, a distance of thirty miles which had filled me with vanity. And two, here was this woman getting impressed and complimenting me for a stupid biking excursion from Bob's road to her furniture store, which might have been three or four miles at best. Her getting impressed at three miles of biking was an insult to my vanity. I felt like I had just invented a perpetual motion machine but been awarded the Nobel prize for my other invention of toothpaste.

So this created a combustible mixture inside of me, which was just waiting to burst out. Which it did. I said to the furniture woman, "Bob's road, oh, come on, Bob's road, no that's close, very close. Very close, for me that is. You see, I bike a lot. I bike thirty miles every weekend. So Bob's road isn't a huge distance for me. I love biking." There, I had said it. She was now free to legitimately explode in admiration for my skills.

She asked me, "So are you interested in this table?"

Actually I was, because it was a good-looking table so then we measured it and I went back home and found that it was the wrong size of table. Too wide. This weekend I will do the Perkiomen Trail and go see a different table.

Thursday, June 12, 2008


I want. Somebody give. Vishnu will bless.


Sometimes I wish the wikipedia didn't exist. Blogs would be so much more interactive than what they are now if wikipedia did not exist. Let me give you an example. Mulch. I see mulch everywhere. Wherever I see flowers, I see mulch. Wherever I see ardently landscaped trees, I see mulch. Where grass is lacking, I see mulch. But what is mulch? From personal experience, I have this much to relate. Mulch is a soup of rotten tree parts, cut into bite sized pieces for convenient consumption. That is mulch. So now I know what mulch is. But what is mulch for? Where is the place of mulch in the soup of life? Is mulch the carrots? Is mulch the peas? The broth? Or is mulch those chunks of nicely tenderized human flesh floating ever so squeamishly?

It is not just because I see mulch every which way, wherever I ride, but also because mulch has a personal history with me. I found mulch here, underneath my deck. It was a stray orphanized bag of mulch, deliberately left by the previous owners of my house in order to torture me. They knew that I did not know what the heck mulch was. I was a real estate n00b. Mulch who? I do not know why they seeked to torture me though, since I paid them above-market price and did not haggle (sorry mother, it is true, fish is not real estate).

Now. About mulch. What is mulch is what I have to find out, let's say. Also, why mulch? Now here I have two options, okay. One is to log on to the wikipedia and ask the wikipedia, hello sir, good morning what is mulch, thank you please. The other option is to log on to my blog and after entering my shitty login and shitty password, ask the air, hello air, what is mulch, thank you please, and thank you for being so invigorating today after two days of 90s and 100s.

Wikipedia would have given me my answer in about 5 seconds, 2 of which would have been consumed in trying to find if my blog was referenced in that wikipedia article. And then what? I would know what mulch is, but where is the social interaction? Where is the personal bonding? Not here. Not here, it ain't.

But where is the bonding? It is here, in the blogs. For if wikipedia had not been born, if wikipedia had been aborted as a fetus, or if papa wikipedia had remembered to wear a condom while fucking mama wikipedia, the world would have been a different place. A better place. Oh, so different. For, if I had woken up this morning, wrought over the question of the mulch, I would have gone straight to my blog and asked of you, my twenty or so intentional readers, hello readers, pray, what is mulch? Are you in the USA? Are you of sane mind? Are you of ample vision? Are you ambulatory? Then, what is mulch? What, for God's sake, is mulch? And, what the heck is it for?

And you would have answered, mulch is ...... this, and mulch is....that, and mulch is.... you know, whatever. And I would have contemplated your answers, formulated my own follow-up question, maybe something like, hey, but why is it called mulch and so forth, and you would have replied, hi gawker, sorry, but this is all the time I have, it is summer and it is now time for me to go swimming with my girlfriend, and I would have said, sure, go, who the heck is stopping you, I have nineteen other intentional readers, who the fuck cares, and then I would have asked you, you there, in the corner, you, pretending to read CNN on the other Firefox tab. Yes, I would have asked you. Why mulch?

And you would have told me. You would have guessed, or you would have lied. Either way, there would have been an interaction, a bonding. There would have been a conversation, an exchange of ideas, a give and take of viewpoints. The foundation of society as we know it.

But now there is wikipedia. So I won't ask you. I already know what mulch is. It's a stupid answer in bulleted form and quite predictable. And I had kinda guessed it anyways. So no blogposts about mulch. No personal interaction. No enlightening conversations.

Which is why, fuck wikipedia. The next time I have a question, I will ask you. And you better be ready with an answer. It's okay if you make stuff up. After all, it's all about the interaction. And the comments. And the follow up replies. Mulch? Mulch could be a Seattle-based grunge band. It could be an ice-cream flavor. Or it could be a pornographic position.

Mulch is whatever you tell me it is.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Helpful replies

On the COD4 forum, some guy with a considerable amount of wishful in his thinking, asked the question,

"Will Call of Duty 4 (a PS3 game) work on the PS2?"

Some of the helpful replies he received from forum members were :

" Will my DVDs play in my VCR?"

"yes, but you have to mod your ps2...1st you have go buy a ps3, then you pretend its the ps2 and batta'll work.

" Will Uncharted work in my Dishwasher?"

"Will Assassin's Creed work in my blender?"

" Will Halo 3 work in my frying pan?"

You can clearly see why these forums are so popular among advice-seekers.


Fuck, it's only 1:43 pm?
Fuck, it's only thursday?
Fuck, I'm only 32?

When will it end?

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Another Garden update

Lately, I have been taking an active interest in my garden. With the appearance of daylight and decent atmospheric conditions here in the mid-Atlantic, various things have begun to sprout and grow. The funny thing is that all throughout winter, not a single thing that is currently growing was visible. It's as if plants hibernate underground during winter just like fish and women.

A rose plant has appeared and it already has a yellow rose hanging from it. I never did anything to facilitate its growth. I remember back in India when my dad had to lavish a considerable amount of time, water, fertilizer, affection and rogor on our five hundred and sixty seven rose plants before a single one graced us with a flower. Here the roses do not appear to require any human intervention to prosper and celebrate life. In fact, they appear to be prospering in spite of my presence which, historically, has been to the detriment of plant-life. Neither of my thumbs is green.

And then there is another plant right by our doorstep which has also appeared out of nowhere and is now partying like it is 1999. This organism has assumed the appearance and demeanor of a rain-forest and has annexed most of my driveway to its kingdom. Currently, it is bearing about thirty-forty huge pink bastards and these bastards are so gigantic that due to their weight, the plant is forever lying prostate on the ground. I don't know what breed of flower this plant is. So the other day, I asked my neighbor, who appears to be knowledgeable in this area, if he knew who or what these flowers were and if they came from a decent family.

"Yes, they are called panties", he replied.

"Can you spell that for me please", I requested.

"Could you use it in a sentence", he countered.

"I have panties growing in my garden", I replied.

"P-E-O-N-I-E-S", he said.

"Oh yes", I said. "You mean ponies."

My other neighbor has the lushest, greenest, thickest backyard I have ever seen. It is in stark contrast to mine, which is a weed infested mess with a few blades of grass trying to make a decent living but having very little success. There is a well-defined boundary between my backyard and my neighbor's where the grass ends and the desert begins. It is so bad that the rabbits on her property have erected a fence in order to keep my rabbits from crossing over to the other side. They say the nibblings better over there.

I do not know what she did to deserve that kind of lawn on her property. I wanted to find out. So naturally, my first step was to guess. After spending a lot of time guessing, I made a list of things that I guessed were responsible for the superior health of her lawn. I then went to Lowe's. I purchased a weed killer. I purchased grass seed. And finally, I purchased grass fertilizer. Since I wanted my grass to de-weed, sprout and grow all on the same day because in this part of the world, summer only lasts for a couple of months which go by so fast that they seem like a couple of days and sometimes hours if you are playing the PS3, I mixed together weed killer, grass seed and fertilizer and applied the mixture to my lawn. The next day, my lawn disappeared, weeds, grass, earth and all. In its place was a deep hole, the bottom of which I could not see and through which I could faintly hear a number of voices speaking in a Chinese dialect.

Repeat after me. Patience is a virtue. Grass takes time to grow. Your neighbor's grass will always be greener. Weed killer, grass seed and fertilizer are not friends.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Is everybody asleep?

How come in my absence, I did not receive a single request to blog, if for the only reason that it would be the first step towards taking towelguy off the main screen? It appears to me that all you people must be closet towelguy fans. Anyways here's to the few among you who did wish for towelguy to be removed, but were hesitant to openly request it due to peer pressure.

Bye bye towelguy, your moment in the limelight is over.

Monday, May 05, 2008


Dear Bollywood,

Eagerly awaiting your reply,


Thursday, May 01, 2008

Garden Update

My deck gave birth to a litter of cilantro plants yesterday. I must tell you, cilantro babies don't look like cilantro adults at all. When they come into this world, they are all like two tiny leaves and one tiny stem and they are barely green and so helpless, they don't even wave when you blow wind in their face. But when you pluck off those tiny leaves and taste them, you can feel the cilantro spirit not yet surging, but definitely germinating inside them.

They took a long time waking up. I first planted them in an old pot, a pot full of dirt left over from the previous owner. I called up my mother and told her, "Hello mother, prepare, for once, to be proud of your son for he is now helping the world meet its food-production needs."

My mother said, "what are you food-producing?"

I said, "Cilantro, mother, cilantro." I come from a family of cilantro fanboys. "Are you excited for me?"

My mother replied, "Yes, yes, I am excited. Did you break the seeds before planting them?"

I allowed a stunned silence to elapse for about a minute and a half.

"Break the seeds? Why?"

"Well, you have to kind of break coriander seeds before you plant them in the dirt."

"Okay mother, I will talk to you later." I had not broken the seeds.

I went and prepared an additional pot for cilantro-planting. Again, an old existing pot. This time I broke the seeds. Alright, that should appease the fussy Cilantro Deity.

But it didn't. I waited and waited some more. It didn't help that the weather suddenly turned cold. A week went by. Not a lot happened. I did improve my COD4 rank from 41 to 51 but that's another story which I could narrate again if you were to so desire.

I decided that it was the old dirt that was the root of the infertility. So I went and bought a fresh bag of dirt from the grocery. My suspicions were confirmed. The dirt manual told me that dirt only lasts for three months or so. Dirt comes with a manual. Long live Western Society. So I went and prepared a third pot for cilantro plantation with all the new dirt I had just purchased. I broke the seeds, used new dirt and watered the pot. Conditions couldn't get any more perfect than this. And then I waited.

And waited some more.

And finally, just as I was about to give up my agricultural dreams, two of my pots went into labor. It happened while I was at work so I couldn't share in the joyous moment but when I came home in the evening, I saw the cilantro babies and it was one of my proudest moments since the time I achieved rank 52 in COD4, but that's a different story.

The funny thing is, the two pots that first gave birth were full of old dirt, including the one with the unbroken seeds. I appear to be breaking new ground in cilantro cultivation technology.

Secondly, I have also planted tomatoes. No progress there. Tomatoes fussier than cilantro. Also, experience has now taught me that a farmer needs to be patient with his crop.

The other day, an Indian kid, claiming to be one of my neighbors, came by and offered to mow my lawn. "Really, does it need mowing," I asked him. I could barely see him through the grass so I asked him to shoot a flare so I could find him.

He answered yes, that in his professional opinion, my grass did indeed require mowing. I haven't been able to start my mower yet. I think it needs gas and I am waiting for the war to end for gas to become affordable again. So I said wokay, son, please do the needful. As I was watching him work on my lawn, he noticed that I was looking at my plants with pride and said to me," You know those are all weeds, don't you?", and he pointed towards basically everything in my garden.

The news stunned me. For a number of days, I had been watering those plants with love and water. I felt betrayed, like a prison guard who's discovered that the convict he took under his wing was actually stealing money from him. I was unconvinced.

"Are you sure? Is this a weed?", I asked, pointing to a small pretty yellow flower, a lot of which were scattered throughout my lawn.

"Yes", said the kid.

"What about this one", I said, indicating the tall thing with the crown of white things that disintegrate and blow away when you blow on it.

"Yes, that one is the worst", replied Dr. Greenthumb.

"Okay", I said with resignation. I had weeds.

The kid offered to rip them up for me but I declined the offer. They were my weeds. I had raised them and I would put them to sleep. So I bent down, began to uproot those ungrateful suckers and arranged them in a big pile.

"That is not a weed. It's actually a tulip", said the kid who was still hanging around like some kind of tomato fungus. I handed him the tulip root I had just pulled out of the ground and told him, "Okay, YOU do the weeds. I will be inside playing COD4."

I am ranked 53 now, but that is another story.