Thursday, August 31, 2006

Noisy neighbors

Remember the scene in Jurassic park when the electric power shuts down followed by the disappearance of the scapegoat. Then it starts, the water in the puddle has ripples building in it as the earth shattering thuds of footsteps get louder and louder. Now imagine that the T-rex lived in the upstairs apartment and he likes to stroll in his apartment from mid-night until 2am. Can it get worse? You bet your brown ass it can. It so happens that this T-rex lives with a She-rex and they also happen to be nymphomaniacs. Let me put it this way…for once I am glad that guys come fast. Who has sex 7 days a week anyway?

How is it that people who don’t sleep until 4am always wind up renting out the apartment above you? And god-forbid they ever decide to go out of town for a weekend. Why that would mean I might get a full 8 hours of sleep. They can’t let that happen.

Brilliant ideas that have backfired:

I have stuffed my window panes with some padding so that they don’t have space to vibrate every time T-rex decides to take his mid-night stroll. That hasn’t toned the noise down as much as I had hoped for.

I have tried politely requesting T to tone down his midnight activities to no avail. When that didn’t work I knocked on the ceiling once with a broom. As if that was supposed to be some knock-knock joke the prick bangs back on the floor! I am not trying to have a rendezvous you dumbass.

I considered calling the cops on him but the guy is walking around in his apartment. They can’t charge him for walking in his apartment at insane hours…could they? So unless he starts playing loud music the cops aren’t going to show up.

Wrote a letter to the landlord. I don’t know if the management cares enough to intervene.

I was seriously contemplating to move my bed into the living room. The sleep deprivation is getting to me.

I thought about leaving bunny slippers at T’s door. Knowing him, he would buy me ear plugs. Earplugs would keep me awake because they are uncomfortable and I am always afraid somebody might break into my house. So I can’t wear them and sleep as I will be lying awake in bed, wondering if somebody is trying to break in and I can’t hear them. So ear plugs were out of question.

I researched sound sealing options. Sound proofing the ceiling would mean overhauling my ceiling or T’s floor i.e. not happening.

The only other thing left to do is buy one of those white noise machines. I really doubt that ocean sounds are going to be any competition for T’s midnight tubthumping.


As I lay away in bed I curse the construction people, management and T-rex: Haraaam zaaadeeeeyyy!

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Monday, August 28, 2006

Sugar rush (part deux)

Previously on Sugar Rush…

Flashback here


I wallowed in the darkness of a doughnut deprived food dungeon. Oh the sorrow! Drowning in my grief I roamed the grocery isles. How much longer will my cholesterol-starved arteries have to go on like this? I guess it was that day that the food gods decided to have mercy on me.


There it stood glowing in the gold rimmed bucket. It was the pot at the end of the rainbow. Haagen-Dazs Bailey’s Irish Cream ice cream. My taste buds had a mini orgasm right there in the grocery store. Oh the tease!


$5.99 for 1 pint? That’s a steal! I was too afraid to touch it, what if I was hallucinating this? I quickly pounced on the box and checked out of the grocery store. Drove home furiously and popped open the lid.


I felt like I had to do some ritualistic sacrifice before I could touch the pristine ice cream surface. It was time for the kill. The ice cream scoop caved into the depths of the sugar ecstasy and I piled on 3 huge dollops into the bowl. I finally let the first spoonful melt on my tongue and a dramatic play of spit fountains overtook my mouth. A small step in the dessert section was a big step for womankind.


As I sank into sugar coma I thanked the food gods from the bottom of my taste buds.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Sitayana

Nina Paley very aptly describes herself as "America's best-loved unknown cartoonist". I guess many of you are familiar with her work. I discovered her website just yesterday and I had to blog about her. She is a professional animator and all her projects are a one woman show. That means she is the writer, director, producer and everything that goes into the making of the animation.

She discovered Ramayana on her visit to India and was inspired to retell the mythological story in Sita's perspective with a Western twist.

I hope you enjoy these as much as I did:

Chapter 1: Dandaka Dharma



For Chapter 2-5 you can go here


To learn more about Nina or view other animations by her visit website

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Sugar rush

What’s with women and chocolate?

A question that has plagued mankind for centuries…okay fine it has plagued my mind ever since I have started writing my thesis. (Now you know how well my thesis writing is going).
To answer the question, I started with some literature searches and within no time this mystery was history. This is what I found. (Puts on nerd glasses). I would like to draw your attention to the nursery rhyme “what are girls made of?” page 9, paragraph 2.

I quote the poem below:
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy dogs' tails;
That's what little boys are made of.
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice, and everything nice;
That's what little girls are made of.

(On a side note, the first paragraph is pretty mean.)

So now that we know that girls are made of part sugar, it’s only natural that we need refills. Brilliant!
Intruder: “Er…sorry to interject but as an avid reader of t-shirts and bumper stickers I have to ask this. If girls are made of sugar and spice, why do they taste like tuna fish?”
Me (jaw dropped): “You sir are a very sick man! Here is my number. Call me.”

As I was saying, girls have to constantly look for a source of sugar. And God knows you don’t have to be made of sugar to indulge in a delightful fat and sugar ecstasy. For those of you who claim that you don’t have a sweet tooth, I have two words for you: Krispy Kreme. You can get all sorts of doughnuts there but my favorite is the no bells and whistles, original glazed.
They say you never forget your first. Before Krispy Kreme I believed a doughnut is a doughnut. They are all the same. Boy was I wrong. One bite and I was floored. It was a delectable sugar meltdown tuned to perfection. Packed with 200 calories and 2 grams of fat, the doughnut was a passport to food heaven. That’s right WAS. Those sick bastards!

It happened last month. Like an unsuspecting victim I was vegetating on the couch watching TV in a zombie like state when suddenly I heard Krispy Kreme.
Me: “I’m awake I’m awake.”
That’s when it came…the cruel inhuman devastating blow. I saw it on the local news last month.
“All the Krispy Kreme outlets in our city have been shut down”, the news reporter announced calmly.
Me (nervous laughter): “Ha ha. Very funny. This is a joke right?”
The reporter continued in a baritone voice, “…the reason for closing the business…”
Me: “It’s not funny anymore. You need to shut your dill hole now channel 13!”
Reporter: “…to cut their losses.”
Me (shuddering): “Krispy Kreme no more?”

I quickly went through the 5 stages of grief in the next 5 minutes:
Denial: “This is bullpoo. I don’t believe it”
Anger: “The abomination! Curse you channel 13. Beep beep beep beep”
Bargaining: “Why did they take away all of the outlets? One would’ve been fine… I would’ve worked with one.”
Depression: “I have lost my will to live.”
Acceptance: “Oh how I will miss you glazed ecstasy. I should’ve known better… it was too good to last.”

As I wallowed in sorrow, feeling as empty as a doughnut hole, it struck me.

In a moment of Zen I said, “Doh! This is nuts.”

Me: “Krispy Kreme ran out of business? That does not make any sense.”

That’s when I realized what this was all about. Folks I put my very life in danger as I lead you to truth. This, my friends is a full blown government conspiracy.

I mean think about it, how could Krispy Kreme run out of business? I mean how stupid do they think we are? First came the weapons of mass destruction (we let that pass), then came the war on terror (we let that pass) and now they tell us Krispy Kreme ran out of business. This has gone too far.”

Adding insult to injury here is a link to a recent article on CNN. http://edition.cnn.com/2006/BUSINESS/08/08/krispykreme.hk/

Going out of business my foot!

Must bring back our preciouses…must eat them…must go into sugar coma…must bring Krispy Kreme back to our cholesterol deprived arteries.

Its war people!

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Once upon a time (a not so grim tale)

(Disclaimer: Any coincidences are purely coincidental)


Once upon a time in the mystical woods there lived a lonely duck. The poor duck had the curse of intellect and could not help but analyze everything to death. The duck realized that it was different from the other ducks at an early age. While the other ducklings went clubbing or read romantic novels, the lonely duckling thought about the mysteries of the universe or read about the art of Zen. The duck thought that all the intriguing black holes were in outer space.

But it wasn’t as grim as the lonely duck made it out to be. All the reading and pondering had paved a dazzling career path for it. The duck owned a cozy pad in the mystical forest and had a cool ride. To top it off the duck had great stock options and had some nifty dance moves. But alas all this was not enough as it longed for the company of another duck. The duck seeked a companion who could hold up a conversation and share a few laughs while cruising in the pond on a lazy moonlit night. Was it too much to ask for a duck with an IQ greater than a bucket of rocks?

It turned out yes it was too much to ask for. It was a long quest that the duck endured when it went looking for its soul mate. From bar pick ups to online dating yonder it went to find the love of its life. The duck met a few who wanted riches. The duck met others who were just lonely. But alas loneliness can’t kill loneliness. So the duck moved on looking for love and companionship.

Finally when the duck was all out of hope and ready to give up love came its way as unexpectedly as it always does. The duck fell in love with a brilliant arty duck named Roberto. (Shame on all of those who assumed the lonely duck was male). Roberto was a painter and painted the lonely ducks eyes day and night. The lonely duck had the most beautiful eyes Roberto had ever seen. The lonely duck could not believe that it was now a not so lonely duck at last. Roberto and the not so lonely duck were head over heels in love.

After a month of basking in love the not so lonely duck and Roberto realized that their career paths and lifestyles had nothing in common. The not so lonely duck missed the mystical forest and finally they decided to breakup and return to their homes for good. The two decided to remain friends and thanks to free long distance night and weekend minutes they chatted everyday. The lonely again duck finally came to terms with life and settled for a bigger house with a plasma screen TV with a private pool and lived as a wee bit lonely duck ever after.

-The end-
P.S. : This was an old post from a couple of years ago that I had not published on this blog.

Monday, August 21, 2006

G. Bappa drinks milk


Santa: Hey G! What's wrong? You don't look so good.
Ganpati: I've been binge drinking milk in India. If I have to drink one more glass of milk...
Santa: Ah!Been there done that every friggin year. 3 more months and I will not see the end of milk and cookies. I go on a 'milk and milk related products' free diet for the rest of the year man.


Both check out their tummies in the mirror.

Ganpati: Those bastards! Sometimes I wish I was lactose intolerant.
Santa: This time the joke is on them. I got everybody "Fuck milk got beer?" t-shirts.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Chapter 5.5: Kill Bully

It has been months since Ganapati had heard from Vyasa. A little concerned, Ganapati decides to pay Vyasa a visit. He reaches Vyasa's cottage to find a note on the door: "Trespassers will be cursed. You are a trespasser if you have big ears, tusks and a trunk.”

Ganapati: "Funny guy".

Ganapati decides to venture in anyway. Vyasa is buried in papyrus and wrappers of juicy root. Ganapati booms in "WASSSSUP!!!". Vyasa chokes on his juicy root.

Vyasa: “You gave me a heart attack! G...what are you doing here?”
Ganapati: “I was in the neighborhood.”

Vyasa raises an eyebrow

Ganapati: “Ok fine I missed pulling your leg.”

Suddenly Vyasa bursts into tears.

Ganapati (confused): “Er...you missed me too? You are scaring me.”
Vyasa: “I can't take this G. Nothing works in the lab. The results are FUBAR. I don't have any job prospects. When will I be able to afford a decent house and a chariot?”
Ganapati: “V get a hold on yourself.”

Vyasa bawls.

Ganapati
: "Here you go."

Ganapati hands over a bottle of happy potion. Vyasa chugs it down.

Ganapati: “Slow down buddy.”
Vyasa: “There is no slowing down now.”

Vyasa continues binge drinking until he passes out. Next day he wakes up with a pounding headache.

Vyasa:“What happened?”
Ganapati: “You didn’t father any children.”
Vyasa: “Good enough for me.”

On that lazy Saturday, Vyasa and Ganapati sit down to continue writing the somewhat abandoned book.

Ganpati: “So finally, here it is...Chapter 7.”
Vyasa: “Actually this is going to be chapter 5.5.”
Ganpati: “Okay I guess.”
Vyasa: “Start writing. Life was good, nay, great for the Pandavas. And why wouldn’t it be? Their father was the King.”
Ganpati: “I thought Pandu died in the Forest Hump episode?”
Vyasa: “Chapter 5.5, remember?”
Ganpati: “Right!”
Vyasa: “As for the Kauravas, they were tired of the constant bullying by Bhima and the nepotism everywhere.”

The Kauravas have a meeting to deal with the increasing bad press they have been getting in the recent months.

Duryodhan: “I’ve had it with that big bully Bhima.”
Dushyasan: “If I am called Dushbag one more time, I am going to punch him. Even if I get an atomic wedgie for it, I will do it.”
K56: “If we don’t do something about this soon we are going to land in deep trouble. The Pandu ministry is always giving us bad press. Krips always makes sure that the first five spots in the class are taken by the Pandavas.”
K68: “I am sick of being beaten up black and blue by fat ass.”
K29: “At least you weren’t drowned. If it wasn’t for K44 I would’ve breathed my last breath. K44 had the presence of mind to ring the lunch bell.”
Duryodhan: “This has gone too far. We have to make this stop. I have given this some deep thought. Bhima’s fall is necessary for our survival. Without Bhima the Pandavas are weak. The ruin of the Pandavas will pave our way to the throne.”
K89: “But there is still one big flaw. We cannot inherit the throne unless dad becomes King. When was the last time you’ve heard of a blind King?”
Duryodhan: “Well there may never have been one before, but Shakuni mama is helping change that. Out of his own personal struggle as a cripple...excuse me...locomotively challenged, he has decided to appeal for a reform and pass the disabilities act. In a nutshell, dad is going to be a King.”

Kauravas: Cheers and applause.

Duryodhan: “It’s settled then. We have to get rid of Bhima to get the ball rolling.”
K66: “But how?”
Dushyasan: “No worries. I have a plan. It’s called Bhima ka kheema.”

Kauravas: Whistles, cheers and applause.

Dushyasan
: “Pilan is bhery simple. Put poison in food. Put food in Bhima. Put Bhima in water.”
K89: “That should take care of Bhima, but what about the other four? Should we get rid of them as well?”
Dushyasan: “I want it to look like an accidental death. So we should keep the other four busy. K32, do you still have the stash of Play Apsaras.”
K32: “What stash?”

Dushyasan raises an eyebrow.

K32: “Oh alright!”

And so the Kauravas set out to destroy their nemesis.


(To be continued...)