17 January, 2010
Things I Kinda Hate!
When you really like reeeeeeeeally wanna pee and your bloody naada of the salwaar decides to get knotted in a gaanth at just that moment...wt bloody f! (It’s your supreme moment of pain when your legs wriggle n fingers juggle n the rest of the body parts...aaaa....I better not tell you about the rest of the body parts)
When you know that they won’t understand you but you still keep saying ‘f@#$ off’ to the mosquitoes who decide to hum in your ears with all the excitement in their tiny lungs at the proposition of keeping you from sleep (Hellooo...I said ‘f@#$ off’ and not ‘f@#$ me’ okay...get an education n so stop flirting with me mosqy...
Grrr...I am from a different species all together!)
When I have typed a loooooooong (I am stretching it show how long...most of us females understand the length better when things are stretched)...okay so long mail response to a friend...
All geared to impress with my wittiest comments and on the spot brilliant rendition...I grin with smug pride and my mind’s telling me...“You are too good Suruchi” (Imagine this in slow motion with screeching opera music in the background). I am about to press the save button...with a deep breath as though I am ‘saving’ the world! But just then my computer ji decides to crash for a few minutes and make me lose it all (It’s just like imagine you are at the height or peak or explosion of a mind blowing physical act and someone decides to knock at your door as though his bloody life depended on it...Ouch, yup, thaaaaat bugging! Oops and ya, add the physical-act-disturbance case to this list too...People, there are other and better ways to control the population!)
When I decide to dress down for a party, thinking that people there would not be too formal, but there dressed to kill, cute hoity toities look down on me as though I were Cinderella without her magic wand wonder...As if saying ‘Ewww...Did she come here straight from the bed?’ And when I connive to dress up as a lickable cake, with all the artillery suited to win any over the top battle...I still get the looks that scream “What’s with her...did she think she was the host or something?” (Dress up n dress down...who the f@#$ tells us to waste our dressing skills on parties and women anyways?)
When I am in the middle of a very important job (now...it could be any job...why get prejudiced or presumptuous here just because I mention the word “job” with no connotations what so ever of any word before it) that needs my fullest of attention and just then a lizard decides to saunter into my range of vision on the room’s wall...And boy I’m screwed...by the presence of the lizard and NOTHING else. My eyes travel along with her...to and fro after every two seconds till it bids me good bye and leaves the room...or f@#$in worse decides to stay, for like me, it loves being stared at which it interprets as being ogled...wtf! (It just takes a lizzy to make me dizzy...hmm...I have to stop my obsession of wanting to rhyme things before my sexual preferences are called in doubt)
A woman with big errr...mmm...you know those round things which move ahead of her...like they reach the finishing line in a race, way before she does...actually they ensure she is not a runner or at least not a high jumper...Like they make you wonder if they are for real or is there a padded console or stuffing or surgery to blame...Doesn’t she topple over those when she walks?
Like how you guys wish...as they make you sigh when she wears a backless blouse, thinking ‘why couldn’t she have worn it the other way round, just by mistake?’ Alrite now...time to stop being prudish...I guess anything beyond a mouthful is quite a waste...
So big women stop looking down on the ‘normal’ ones....nope we didn’t use Clearsil there by mistake and nope we don’t think we are lemons either just because you choose to be a puffed up watermelon (Phew! Some people can be so ‘full’ of themselves!)
I suck at technicalities...I think that’s a general knowledge issue with those who know me well...if you want me to get lost just suggest some technical steps that I should take to freak the life out of me...And for a change I would have the zapped and zipped expression on my face instead of the Smart Aleck one. I don’t know how this blog transpired here...ask me about making it high tech and I just might chose to leave the blogosphere instead! It took me like a 100 years to fathom how to upload a picture here and another 50 to make the picture come in between the texts. (They should have a step-by-step guide for nerds like me!). Tell me to go googling to find reservations for a vacation on the net and I just might (only for two seconds though) think that vacations can be injurious to health.
Now I really want to give bloggie awards to fellow bloggers (sans the paparazzi pictures of course, where I could have smiled coyly handing down a trophy or better still taking one...with my palms on my cheek and OMG-I-can’t-believe-this expression reeking off my pores) ...but, but, but...not my butt...just life’s sucking but...I don’t know how to!
I absolutely detest making calls to find information or get errands done...like calling up the gas agency to tell that the pipe is leaking...the mechanic for the washing machine is not working (wtf...can’t you make machines that run on like forever?)...the BSNL office when my internet decides to die on me. I first try to revive it by saying... ‘Nahhhhin, tum mujhe chodh ke nahi ja sakte...kya meine isse din ke liye tumhe paal poos kar bada kiya tha?’
But when it dies even more on hearing me croon these c-grade dialogues, I make those dreaded calls.
‘Madam, please tell us if the WLAN is blinking?’
‘Sir, I am blinking n blinking but I’d be damned if I know where to find that light!’
‘Okay got to the settings...there would be a button called ‘wtf’ (that’s my understanding of it by the way...the guy is not horny), press it n a page would open...change ‘screw’ tab to ‘god save me here’ and blah blah blah...I am too busy gasping for air by this time to fidget any more with my fingers!
‘Hello, hellooooooooo...madam is there someone educated in the house who can understand what I am saying?’
‘Grrrrr...Damn you...you bloody ‘sadhe hue pakode ke nok ke gilgille badbodaar pyaz ke chilke’...you call MY education skills in question...you know I bloody write a blog!
I don’t say that people...so stop expecting a retaliation here where he may turn around to call me “O madam...you ‘modernity ke naam pe khaak mein mila kaala gudda hua messy daddhu sa dhabbha’
I instead coax and seduce my beloved to follow up with the rest of the procedures....better to get laid in the sack than screwed on the phone!
Okay the post has already run out its length...
So in a quickie wrap up, some more things I hate:
The sound when nails are scratched upon an iron surface...that would almost make me scrunch my face, how you would do with yours when that first piece of shit refuses to get out of your body no matter how hard you push!
I hate it when little babies first act pricey and refuse to come to you in front of an audience of like a hundred people judging you and when they do come obligingly, they chose to piss on you before they leave, just to piss you off more...
I detest having to eat tinda, karela, kaddu and some other god-forbid unpronounceable names of vegetables, every f@#$in day and night for a week...perhaps god’s way for making up for the mess he created after bringing in the ‘forbidden’ apple!
I absolutely grill n grind when a guy I like and am flirting with chooses to ignore me (doesn’t happen too often by the way, just to set the record straight) and worst still actually comes up with corny ‘drop-off’ lines (Is there a term like that...I assumed the opposite of ‘pick-up’ lines would do here!) Some people just don’t have the taste, do they? So just one last word here...Guys, those who like me...raise their hands and those who don’t...raise your standards!