Teenagers

Know what I realized just this morning? That there is one feeling (is it a feeling?) that perpetuates my every waking moment... ok, maybe not every moment, but like 90% of the time. I'm perpetually annoyed. Everything annoys me, waking up annoys me, doing almost anything annoys me, not able to do something annoys the hell outta me, forgetting things annoys me, people annoy me but here's the kicker... Kids on Facebook (who are especially related to you!) annoys me the most these days!

Ok. Seriously. Who gave permission to these kids to have FB accounts? No. Seriously. Especially since their parents are NOT monitoring the incredible trash these kids post. And ok, now really really seriously... who the fuck do these kids think they are, typing complete and utter gibberish that only horny monkeys can understand (celibate monkeys use sign language... I swear) when they shorten every damned word till its unrecognizable (takes you a few minutes to fill in the missing letters and/or unravel switched letters) and assume they have the right and the godfucking authority to pass the most juvenile and actually just incredibly lame comments!?!?

I get it, you are a teenager and you have disdain for just about everything and because you are a teenager you also have giant egos that allows you to assume you are smarter than all the adult population put together and go about making complete asswipes of yourselves simply by opening your mouths. But you are not smarter, cause if you were you would know how to at least SPELL simple words cause admittedly anything longer than 6 letters is Greek to you! And NO! you are not clever either! I know you think you are, and you might even be to your fellow dimwitted teenagers but to the rest of the world you are the exact opposite of whats clever and funny, which is boring and annoying. For fucks sake you like Shin Chan!! And you are not even having a real discussion with each other- tremendous name calling, abusing, narcissistic delusions about how loveable you are, egotistic delusions about how wise you are, your role models are Hanna Montana and Michael Jackson. Jesus fucking Christ!

It's embarrassing as hell when these asinine comments show up in your news feed, not to mention ANNOYS THE EVER LOVING CRAP outta me. And you can't have a normal conversation with them, cause they don't want to talk or listen to you, they want you to listen to THEM go on and on about nothing really, their heads are filled with vapid vacuum... I'd rather talk to a tree and feel like I really connected with someone instead of just wanting to slap them silly.

What's really annoying is that these boogers will grow up eventually and still be just as lame and stupid with nary a credible thought or concern and... they will go forth and procreate.

I shudder.

Is it real?

I was walking Cher the other day and on the way back, this lady with a toddler wanted to know if it was ok to let the kid near the dog. I said, sure!

So the kid is petting the dog and Cher is all happy and wagging her itty bitty tail, the mother is happy the dog's not mauling her kid after all, so she goes... "How sweet, is it real?"

Eh?

Did she just ask me if my dog was REAL?

Ah. No lady. This here is the latest Japanese Robodog, with real fur from a real dog (who was merely shaved not skinned for his fur mind you), and has a super computer inside that will make it do everything real dogs do, even poo.

Jesus Frickin Christ.

Do not litter

So all the maid had to do was hand the 5kg bag of icky litter, I had kept under the sink to be disposed off, to the garbage man and be done with it. I have no clue why she slung it over the railing, into the lil' flower beds below our staircase.

So I'm walking down the stairs and as I near the flower bed I can oh my gawd! smell the smell from hell. Good grief, it's IN my nostrils methinks, I can smell it everyfuckingwhere now? That's when I spotted the ruptured bag of litter and its spilled contents all over the lil' lawn. Eh.

So I stand there for a few minutes even though I'm running late for office, debating with myself on what should I do: info the society's secretary and request a clean-up, ignore it, clean it up myself, ignore it, make the maid clean it up, ignore it. It's no great mystery... I ignored it. I'm not proud of myself, but I wasn't feeling too guilty either. A topic for deeper analysis perhaps, but one that I don't have the time for.

So I come home from work and I'm passing the lil' lawn now, looking for the mess... and its somehow gone... the ruptured bag had been removed, and the litter had been spread out in an oddly orderly fashion... as if it was okay... as if it was meant to be... as if it was fertilizer.

So I concluded, as I chuckled to me self all the way up the stairs, that the gardener prolly thought it was some awesome form of fertilizer and distributed it nicely all over the flower beds so the plants can suck in the goodness of Snow's pee.

Hee.

Gotta have faith, faith, faith-AH!

Imagination is evil. Apparently.

Boggles my mind the way just about everything threatens the Christian way of life. Few that I have had the misfortune of being educated on : laughing Buddha's, people of other faith praying in your home and refusing to sleep in the room they pray in, eating "prasad". And Harry Potter. That skinny kid on the flying broom is evil. Harry Potter books and movies have been banned, with the blessing of the good Pope, in many regions, schools and households.

Why?

Well according to the religious figure who currently "leads" a local prayer group that NiDidi frequents, Potter promotes an unhealthy interest in witchcraft and magic, leading to... ready for this?... imagination in children. Imagination is evil. Children cannot be allowed to imagine cause imagination leads them to believe that fantasy and whimsical meanderings will ultimately bring them to the burning door of hell. Children need to be educated on practicalities of life. Yes. Agreed. But what defines practical? Is flying in a metal tube thousands of miles high up in the sky practical? Wasn't it just a few centuries ago that people believed the world to be flat and sneered upon anyone who wondered otherwise? Is Mickey Mouse practical? Why isn't Alice in Wonderland banned? Are talking dancing animals an acceptable form of imagination? Why the heck hasn't the good Pope banned Disney? Why hasn't he burned the Sistine Chapel to the ground? What practical proof does anyone have that Michael Angelo really did witness the figures in reality that he painted on the ceiling? Are all the painted, sketched depictions of Jesus authentic cause he never looks the same in two pictures together!? Or are they valid ONLY cause they depict Jesus and Genesis and since it deals with *ahem* God, it is A-Ok.

Is Christianity such a flimsy faith that, the mere imagination of one woman who planted a bespectacled kid on a broom and lets him whip out potions and other magical thingies, threatens a belief system spanning centuries? Yet they contest that Santa is a saint albeit commercialised as a fat man in a ridiculous red suit. Eh.

What scares me is that NiDidi apparently swallows this tripe down whole just cause its spewed from the mouth of someone who is religious, attends retreats, is blessed with the Holy Spirit, can see visions, yada yada yada, and oi yeah, is practical in life as well, so dognammit it MUST be true! Why would she be wrong? Let's not try and question it, or rationalise the statement and come to a conclusion ourselves, lets just take it whole and shove it down our throats cause the Pope himself banned it and religious magazines have published it all over the holy world. It has to be true, cause anything else would mean that hey! I can think for myself and since anything that involves thinking independently is evil as well. I am but a lowly sheep. And sheep do not think, sheep do not imagine, sheep bleat and follow wherever the good Shepperd and his border collie lead them.

Meh.

What saddens me is that this ugly tripe is being fed to Haze as well. She is being told that to have a mind that can explore the possibilities of thought, that does not exist in the living world as we know it, is wrong. If the mind cannot be allowed to explore and create a world that defies logic then Christians should not fly planes, let them walk on water and travel instead. Let us burn our brushes and never paint again, let us burn our books and never seek to understand a poem again, let us never watch movies, let us burn the Taj Mahal cause how dare anyone ever build a monument that was but an imagination prior to laying down the first marble. Why can't we try harder to educate our children to understand which parts of magic or witches are evil, the parts namely that are selfish, or teach them what sets reality apart from fantasy, which parts of whimsy should be encouraged and which parts discouraged. But oh no! that would mean discussions, rationalisations and *gasp* parenting! It's easier to kneel down and pray of course.

And then they wonder why this very faith bothers me so much. They get the answers in their visions of course, so they need not ever discuss it with me. To be so insecure and narrow minded, I pass. Cheerfully I imagine myself walking down the brick road, paved brilliantly yellow all the way to the burning gates of hell.

Apologies to Jesus in my boat, don't spank me yet. Bleat.

Since we are on the screaming

Ok, you know how when you are listening to John Mayer sing his speshul songs, where he has this incredible guitar playing, no I don't know the technical terms, in the middle of it and you are just being carried away in a half swoon and half wonder at how beautiful it all sounds and how much you wish to just, to please oh please just LISTEN to it withOUT the mindless, fanatical, hysterical SCREAMING of all the teenage girls in the background? Yeah. Can't stand that one bitty. Why? Why? WHY the screaming? I get it, you are wrought with emotion and perchance arousal as well and by screaming like mindless fucks you think Mayer will spot you orgasming shamelessly in the midst of 1000 other orgasming mindless fucks. Really. Right. The rest of us mindful fucks really just wish to listen minus the screaming, just wish to enjoy if we can the speshulness of his voice, his words, the guitar oh dear sweet lord the strumming fingers and thats it. Thank you very much. Goodnight and Godbless America.

Uff!

If I'd known that GAIL was infested with ill-mannered, ill-tempered, ill-bred kids, I'd have rented a room under the train tracks and bathed every morning with the hobos... or not (since I'm assuming hobos don't have access to water to drink much less bathe!). Well, anyhoo, the blimey kids are pawns of the devil, I kid you not, meant solely to make any moment I wish to spend at home in peace... well not peaceful. They howl, screech, shout, scream, wail, cry, yell at the top of their cursed lungs, making me wish I was deaf. I swear. There is this one particular brat, who relishes his playtime by ONLY calling out the name of another boy, Ishu, in varied tones ranging from hoarse screeches to high-pitched wailing. Then there are the assorted shrieks of all the girls aged under 5, which could mean anything from spotting a bug on a leaf to a random boy who strolled into their midst. I especially cringe when I have to take Cher for a walk, the stinking runts spot her from way off and come running in hoards screaming, CUTE WALA DOGGIE AAGAYA! Why? Why? WHY scream? I get it you are all excited and I understand as kids your brains are not yet developed enough to know that hearing is not subjective to higher decibles and a LOT of adults can hear a normal tone just plain dandy-fine, and the sight of a cute pup, and MY GAWD is Cher a cute-break-your-heart-pup, will send you into a mindless frenzy, but really the screaming, it's unnatural I think and it really should be illegal!! Did I mention all the pubescent boys playing basketball pretending to be THE dudes... ah... sorry kiddos, you plain suck, at basketball and at attaining puberty. And, oh! the language! It's DESPICABLE. They talk worse than adults, their dialogs peppered with abbe, oye, saale, chal na, ja na, maar doonga, chup be... it's shocking! Where in the heck are their parents? Do they even know what pests their kids are? Do they care? Of course not, cause if they did I would not be writing this damned post to begin with.

Doofus

The fridge is on the blink for 2 weeks now. The freezer works fine, or TOO fine as the case is, but the lower segment does not cool. The repair guys came and dismantled the lot of it 2 days back and well now it does nothing except look all exposed and sad.

So.... I bought Ice Cream tonight, my first for Summer and I was all excited that I'll have a leisure slurp session after dinner while watching Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.

Hmmm.

No sir. I had to eat ALL FUCKING FOUR of them as soon as I got home cause I realized the damn fridge DOES NOT FUCKING WORK.

Grrrr.

It was NOT fun, cause now I'm OLD and I cannot hog down 4 cones at one go. So fucking mad.

Thoo!

How many times has one said that curse or wanted to say it? At times I have said it in pure jest when kidding around with friends, and at times I have muttered in under my breath wholly intending to do if suitably provoked. But would you ever really, given the opportunity to spit on someone’s face, spit on their face?

I did. Yip. Yes Siree.

I woke up on Moving Day to find Bhumi missing, and I eventually figured out that Madame’s run away. Imagine that! The fucking bitch after all the goody-two-shoes act she pulled on me for 7 months, after treating her like a fucking choti sister, ran fucking away. Just like that. Needless to say, my temper was at an all time thermometer-breaking high. The fucking moron never imagined that I'll go hunting for her, file a report with the police and come show her what PISSING me OFF means. After 3 hours of locating the crappy police station, dealing with crappy policemen who really really sincerely ought to be castrated with plastic kid-safe scissors, hunting down the placement agency in the galli's and nukkas of Badarpur Border, I stormed into the Agency, screeching like a banshee.

TeeHee. In retrospect, the reactions all round were both intensely satisfying and funny as hell. Bhumi was beyond shocked, stunned speechless as I screamed abuses at her in both Hindi (Yes... including the C-word. Yes. Me. Yes. I said the C-word. Just once tho) and my spectacular, albeit wasted on the retarded fuckwits, English. In hind sight, some of the things I said to her are admittedly whacked! My throat was parched (from the hunting expedition and all the screaming) and yet I managed to scrounge around in my dry throat and scrapped enough spit to hurl it smack dab in the back-stabbing bitches face.

Not once but TWICE!!

Later as I sat in the car, I looked within myself at wonderment that I could lose control to that extent. That my rage would drive me to such frenzy. Point to be noted though here is that I didn’t for a nanosecond feel bad. Nope. But what concerns me is the exultation spasming through me at her reaction... stupefied fear. It felt awesome watching her cower in fear, in utter bewilderment, trying to grapple with the fact that her asinine act of just running away would drive me to insanity.

I felt betrayed. Completely and utterly let-down, disappointed and disillusioned. I counted on her to stand by me cause I stood by her. I didn't chuck her out the minute I discovered she couldn't bloody well cook to save her scrawny ass, I cooked and fed her, I let her eat fucking momos whenever she wanted, I gave her my clothes, my perfumes, let her watch DVD's on the TV at home, she fucking ran up my phone bill more than the bitch earned in a month, listened to her non-stop narrate fucking BORING stories of her friends and neighbors as if I'd really have ANY bloody interest in them... and then the screwup hippty-hops out the door cool as can be thinking she's fucking Jackie Chan of Darjeeling and no one can touch her.

GAWD! The only thing I restrained myself (mighty proud of my restraint btw) was not to beat her to a bloody pulp, red-belt-in-karate-kiss-my-ass. Gah!

Now I'm stuck with a temp maid who talks too fucking loudly but likes the dog and cat (or pretends to! Allah hi jaane), can't cook, has ZERO sense about most things and how to do them, yaps constantly about her previous Madame and how balls-out-fantastic she was (YET she left her!) but I tolerate her cause I have to.

HATE it.