Archive for June, 2009

Housewives III

June 29, 2009

“Whatever happens will be for the worse. Therefore, it is on our interests that as little as possible happens. ”  — A wise drunk man

Time was women with degrees on Aurangzeb and Shakespeare did one of the below:

1. Marry a clerk working for Indian Railways, settle down to: knitting, making cute artifacts with empty Parachute thenga ennai dabba and nylon threads, and other domestic chores. Travel around Mayavaram on husband’s Railway pass, visit extended relatives and kshethradanam to navagraha sthalamsin the erstwhile Thanjavur district, praying for husband’s promotion through officer exams and pay commissions.

2. Go on to become IAS/IRS officers. Somehow, knowledge of Aurangzeb’s shaving habits and Romeo and Juliet is useful for administering government and its revenue.


3. Marry a successful man affluent enough to eat roasted garlic in balsamic vinegar and wash it down with Shiraz. Only because that is what metrosexuals do. Trot the globe, use up terabytes of storage in Flickr with photos of solitary sparrow sitting on an abandoned ship, long shadows and magnified flora.

4. Indignation as a way of life: Talking about feminism, libertarianism, liberalism and lavadaism. Blogging about/talking openly about menstrual cycles is the fashionable indicator of liberated feminism.


Guest post

June 26, 2009

Note — The author of this post is an eminent blogger who blogs at Tasmac cutting. This blog is grateful to post his writing. Over to him –


I am India’s eminent blogger and I like to fancy myself as a rational person with a libertarian bent. I’ll tell you it is not easy. I have to browse through all the news websites and find out irrational practices to mock. I then try and think of something sarcarstic to mock the custom, throw in a few wikipedia links to awe my minion readers, thereby bringing up my immense intellect in a casual manner. Today was a lucky day. I found a news item where some Floridans, a little too worried with the upcoming hurrincane season, decided to conduct — heteroexual — marriages between alligators, hoping it would ward off names like Katrina. I figured that the chances of Katrina striking again this year are very slim and the Floridans could be able to claim that the alligator weddings were the cause. I realized I could mock that by extending the logic to claim that my ritualistic downing 4 bottles of moonshine while watching “I am a celebrity…” also to be the cause. I jumped on wikipedia, took a crash course in their logic and fallacy section and peppered the post with links to “Confirmation Bias” and “Post hoc ergo propter hoc”. I felt smug and happy and wished everyday could be this easy. Until a lowbrow blogger decided to mock me. He extended my logic further and reasoned that if I fucked my wife and she delivered a baby and I felt happy on becoming a father, I would be committing the “post hoc ergo propter hoc” fallacy myself. He even had a pithy aphorism to offer – “Motherhood is reality. Fatherhood is belief.” Fuck him. Nobody reads him. I am the one with a ticking sitemeter.


June 23, 2009

This is probably the most amazing thing I have ever heard.

At about 16 pounds and 30 inches, 16-year-old Brooke Greenberg has not aged significantly, physically or apparently cognitively, since she was a toddler. Doctors hope that her case could shed light on the mysterious genetics behind aging.

Microfiction IX

June 17, 2009

She never thought her past would come back to haunt her. Not that she did not do anything questionable, but because she was confident that she had no regrets. When her skin was tighter around her toned body, she lived a life that appeared straight out of “sex and the city” — fun loving, independent, strong-willed and living life on her own terms. Around the turn of the millennia, when showing the midriff and the underpants were fashionable, she had tattoos. Plus she was really drunk. A Greek Goddess on the lower back, cupids on the love handles and butterflies above the pubes. Now she has to undergo what is usually a minimally invasive surgery. But the doctor said cutting through the tattoos could cause the ink to seep in and result in serious infections. The only option is to go for an expansive incision which will leave a huge scar that would pretty much rule out two-piece swimwear for life. Or live in pain. Fuck.

The Hangover

June 15, 2009

This probably is the first time I saw the crowd applauding at the end of a movie. A great movie and one hopes they suppress their itch to make a sequel.


June 15, 2009

* There is a moron who is actually named “Shiny”.

* Despite being an actor or something, he is desparate enough to do his poor maid from Bihar.

* A genius reporter asks the public prosecutor handling the case this gem of a question — “What do you think was the motive?”. Perhaps he was bullied by kids in school for having a funny name and he finally decided to vent his frustration. Or may be that’s the way they roll in the naarth.

Singleton of Dufftown 15yo

June 14, 2009

A friend went to Europe on business recently and was thoughtful enough to buy me a bottle of whisky. Not being a whisky drinker himself, he had asked the shopkeeper for something that is not available in the US who gave him a bottle of Singleton 15yo. He invited a couple of us to sample the fare at his house this Friday.

Dufftown apparently is a town which has the highest concentration of distilleries including Glenfiddich and Balvenie. The distillery produces a large quantity of whisky, majority of which is for making blended malts.

Notes — Flowery with hints of vanilla. Spicy at first, sweet and woody later and warming mint finally. Easily drinkable.

How drinking leads to clear thinking

June 10, 2009

This is inflating my self-worth. As per a bill that was passed yesterday, you get an incentive of upto $4500 to exchange your old fuel guzzling car to a new fuel efficient one. But at least I had the good sense to tag my advice “crappy idea”.

Anyhow, here is another idea — to improve the fuel efficiency of your car — pull the driver’s seat back by an inch or two.

Microfiction VIII

June 10, 2009

He had the bottle of whisky hidden in the storeroom, behind a box of cereal. When the wife was gone for more than a few minutes –to get her eyebrows done or to take her evening shower — he quickly poured a drink and gulped it down. That worked. Till the in-laws arrived.

Then, he stopped caring. The rasam saadham and the glass of whisky were often seen flirting with each other.

Microfiction VII

June 8, 2009

He made many sacrifices to father a child. He sat through the hideous birthing and parenting classes in the weekends while he could have been drinking happily. But this one was the most difficult. It was already late afternoon and he hadn’t had anything to eat, but he was unmindful of the hunger. He packed his wine glasses, champagne flutes, decanters, ice buckets, commemorative beer mugs and all the artistic stuff he had to show for years of drinking. In the baking sun, he lugged his wine rack into the trunk of his SUV along with the carefully packed boxes of stemware. He then drove to his friend’s house and deposited everything safely in the basement. He even gifted him a bottle of wine as a token of appreciation – for letting him use the basement in his hour of need. With one half of the job complete, he logged into cox and kings website and booked a rather lavish tour package for two. His in-laws were coming.