Monthly Archives: April 2007

AYBABTU Takes Over…

Part 1: All Your Base Comments in TC Are Belong To Us.

Technical Communication class. i.e. a well-timed one-hour during which everyone works on their assignments/practical files/reads Sheldon or Wodehouse or even Ayn Rand (yes, it’s that kind of class) etc. In between, we steal a few glimpses of our err… attractive TC Prof. whose pout has resulted in her earning the nickname of “Angelina Jolie”. We were learning something related to article-writing. I don’t mean to brag, but, as I WAS a *ahem* Star *ahem* Student Correspondent with the Times of India, so I should know a thing or two about writing newspaper articles. Anyway, the first thing about article-writing is the headline. It should be snappy and something that “hooks” the reader. “So”, she asked, “Can anyone come up here and write yesterday’s headline of either the Times of India or the Hindustan Times?” As expected, there were no volunteers. “Harish” she said. I was busy doing my chemistry practical file, so it took some time for the familiarity of the name to sink in. My first instinct was to refuse…

but then…

I took the piece of chalk in my hand. I approached the green-board (yes, it’s green. This isn’t a school, despite the name). I began to write…

A

There was no reaction. I followed it up with a couple of L‘s. Still no reaction. Deep breath. I had to write this quickly…

YOUR was but the work of a couple of seconds and BASE came even quicker… Two people in the class of 50 understood (Akhil was absent)  and burst out laughing. A life’s aim was accomplished.

Part 2: All Your Beers Are Belong To Us.

The end of the semester coincided with the 19th year of my existence… It’s college… Alcohol can’t be too far away. The problem was and is, that there’s an age-limit. Guys from outside India and even Delhi might wonder what the big deal is all about, I am 19… Well, babies (a tribute, sort of)… the min. age in Delhi and NCR for the consumption of alcoholic drinks is 25! That’s right! 7 years more than that in the US! Jebus has left the building… Ajeebus has taken his place. (That’s a pun, there… no, wait… THERE) But, we decided to give it a try.

Into the valley of Geoffrey’s Bar rode the mighty… three. (cowards, the rest of them). At the entrance of the place, we thought that there might be a glitch in the program. We all didn’t shave and look nearly 26 anyways…. but we were carrying college bags. Our back-up was that we’re doing our MBA from the Business School. BVP people can also use this ruse… NSIT/DCE… I’m not sure. An IITian can just say “I’m an IITian, let me in.” Anyway, I walked (confidently?) in first and asked for a table for three which was granted. On being seated, we stashed our bags below the table and waited for the menus to arrive. First up, came the starters menu. The cheapest item on it was the Chicken Five Spices… for a 195 bucks! Not good.

Then, the waiter placed another menu in my hand…

I opened it and I could hear the concluding part of the second section of Handel’s Messiah play in my head. It was the drinks menu. Everything I had ever learned about drinking was from the Ultimate Book. We decided that we’d better order the cheapest Hors d’œuvre and three pints of Foster’s. The order was placed as follows:

“We would like…”

“Yes, sir?”

“A plate of Chicken Five Spices”

“Yes, sir?”

“And…”

“…”

“Yes, sir?”

“…”

“treepineoystrs”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Three… pintsofFoster’s”

“I’m sorry, sir…”

*oh, shit!*

“We do not…”

*oh, shit he’s going to say serve alcohol to people under-25!*

“…have pints. Shall I get three bottles instead?”

“YE… I mean… yes, please. Thank You”

We hung around for an hour or so. The ambiance was great. Stimulating stuff. We ordered another bot too. In total, the beer was consumed as follows:

Harish: 38.33%

Akhil: 33.33%

Fudda: 28.33%

I stayed the most sober… Fudda was smiling like an idiot for hours afterwards. The bill was a grand one. (punny, I know)

We all had headaches the next morning, but I doubt if those were hangovers.

The beer tasted bitter and seriously, I doubt if I’ll ever order the revolting stuff again! Unless I want to write, of course, because I noticed that in my mildly inebriated state, words flowed from my mouth like… sewage and effluents from an industrial plant into the Yamuna river. (I could’ve for example, come up with some better imagery)

So that was that.

I’m not making it a habit.

Nimish, Dinesh…No comparisons.

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Filed under *cough cough* comedy, Cartoons, College, Crap Rating- *****, Life, No, Random, The Bullshit Is Out There, The few rare Good things that actuallyhappen in my life

khappybirthday0001.jpg

I’m even more disillusioned now.

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Filed under Life, Rants

The Greatest Band Ever.

Nimish and me tend to go on and on and on about Radiohead. I think its time for me to set the record straight. Radiohead is definitely one of the greatest bands ever, no doubt. But no band has ever, even for a second in all their glory, come close to these four guys:

  1. Jimmy Page
  2. Robert Plant
  3. John Paul Jones
  4. John Bonham

To put it in a linear graph of greatness…

Iron Maiden is at x=6, Coldplay is at x=10, Radiohead is at x=15, The Beatles are at x=10, Led Zeppelin is at x=7793246462135451136532315412.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little.

But they are the greatest. Ever.

Comments are off. Non grandum anusa rodentum to your opinions.

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Filed under An Atheist's Gods, Art, Life, Music, Reviews

Song Idea

It’s odd. I don’t drink or do drugs and my excuse has always been the same: I’m high and weird in my normal state, what can drugs and alcohol do? The point is that, I got this idea for a song while coming to the british council today… I don’t why I get these ideas in the metro… must be something in the air conditioning.

Anyways, the Lacucaracha has thus thunk :

There should be a Radiohead song… tell Jonny to get his Ondes Martenot and throw in a Electro-Theremin too for good measure. Thom Yorke, listen to to Numb, get the exact same deep, deadpan voice as the Edge’s, somewhat similar to A Wolf at the Door. There should be no drums while Thom sings, heavy bass and usage of a multitude of instruments, but no percussion whatsoever. The drums kick in only towards the end of the song, with a chaotic instrumental consisting of all instruments used in the song. ( Ondes Martenot, Electro-Theremin, Glass Armonica, Piano, Violin, Electric Guitar, Keyboards etc.)

The lyrics:

A graphic detailed instruction manual of how to painfully mutilate a person’s body, ending with the line, “And kill him thus” repeated over and over…

I need help.

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Filed under Art, Crap Rating- *****, Ideas, Music, Radiohead, Random, Taureum Excretae, V for Violence

The Ultimate Final of Ultimate Destiny

There are few useful things that happen on Orkut…

This, however, is one of them.

I, for one, would love it.

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Filed under Damn Statistics and Lies, football, Internetione', Manchester United, Politics, Predictions, Scousers, The few rare Good things that actuallyhappen in my life, V for Violence

Trebleulations…

If you’re all going to Wembley clap your hands,
If you’re all going to Wembley clap your hands,
If you’re all going to Wembley,
All going to Wembley,
All going to Wembley clap your hands.

Drink, drink, wherever you may be,
We are the drunk and disorderly,
And we don’t give a sh*t and we don’t give a f*ck,
We’re going home with the Cup Winners cup.

We’re gonna win the cup,
We’re gonna win the cup,
And now you’re gonna believe us,
And now you’re gonna believe us,
And now you’re gonna believe us,
We’re gonna win the cup.

We’ll be running round Wembley with the cup, p*ssed up,
We’ll be running round Wembley with the cup, p*ssed up,
We’ll be running round Wembley,
Running round Wembley,
Running round Wembley with the cup, p*ssed up

We won the cup,
We won the cup,
Ee-aye-adio,
We won the cup.

Bring on the double, bring on the double tonight …

We’ve done the double, we’ve done the double tonight …

We’ve done the double, we’ve done the double again …

Tell me ma, me ma,
To put the champagne on ice,
We’re going to Wembley twice,
Tell me ma, me ma.

Though we must celebrate, it’s the Champions League that scares me. AC Milan won’t quite be the pushovers that Roma were.

I believe that the semi-final is going to decide whether or not we win the Champions League this year. If we can get past AC Milan, Chel$ki/Liver-fool is nothing.

The first leg is at the Theatre of Dreams on my birthday (thanks to time difference). We HAVE to get a huge goal margin. I suggest a line-up with a stronger emphasis on the midfield to counter Kaka and Seedorf. Use Scholes as an in-the-hole player, which perhaps how Ancelotti’s going to use Kaka and Carrick as a holding player. I wish we had someone like Cantona to counter Pirlo, but I guess that Carrick will have to shoulder this responsibility. Wish we had Hargreaves already!

Giggs will play an important role because Cafu won’t be able to do anything to him.

Cristiano will have to put Maldini under pressure. Maybe if he distracts Maldini enough, that might make Nesta abandon his position and help, which will unleash Rooney. If you ask me, Milan’s weakness is on their left and hence, Giggs and Rooney will be the most important players from our side.

Dida is rubbish. I think Scholes, Roon, Giggs and Cristiano should keep up a relentless series of shots. He’ll crack very quickly.

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Filed under football, Ideas, Life, Manchester United, The few rare Good things that actuallyhappen in my life

Relationship Status: Committed

That’s the one line in my orkut profile that’s shocking the bejesus out of everyone. Committed? Him? What kind of silly, blind, insane, sadistic prick of a girl would ever think of being in a relationship with a guy who thinks that… with a guy who thinks! Well, laddies and ladies, here’s something from the dictionary:
Committed: (transitive verb) CONSIGN. To place in a prison or mental hospital esp. by judicial order.

It’s not a case of sour grapes, I can assure you. I believe that I am, as Bertie Wooster was, in the words of Jeeves, “One of nature’s confirmed bachelors.” I’m just not boyfriend material. College-life, though just a semester and a half old, has shown me why. What I present is wisdom gained from experiences into what it takes to be a boyfriend at:

  1. Amity School of Engineering.
  2. St. Stephen’s College
  3. Hindu College
  4. Sri Venkateshwara College
  5. Lady Shri Ram College
  6. Netaji Subhas Institute of Technology
  7. Delhi College of Engineering

Among others (Bethany High and FAPS, Bangalore need mentioning as primary sources in the others category). How do I know this? Fests. You are almost forced into observing and admiring the sheer valor and bravery it takes to be a boyfriend. Indeed, I openly admit my inadequacy, for I do not have what it takes. I cannot:

  1. Abandon all self-respect, vanity and ego; in front of my girlfriend. The mentioned qualities expand gargantually when in front of my friends, but I’m not willing to be a guy who’s so desperate to be in a relationship and have a girlfriend so as to show off in front of his mates that I’ll swallow my pride and let my self-respect be ground to the dust.
  2. I’m materialistic. But I’m not very well-off. That would indicate that I’ll have to sacrifice all of my desires for her. So, instead of buying that ‘The Best of The Doors’ CD I’ve been eyeing, i’ll have to get two gold-class tickets to see a crappy romantic comedy that probably stars Hugh Grant (I’m assuming that I’ll never fall in love with a girl who’ll make me see ‘Salaam-e-Ishq’. That’s just NOT happening), buy popcorn and stuff and then take her out to dinner. Riiiight.
  3. The process of approaching a girl without her reaching for a can of pepper spray, talking to her, convincing her to go out on a date with you and finally, getting some “hey-hey” is long, arduous and requires almost infinite resolve and infinity plus 1 reserves of patience and desperation. Of which I have neither. Besides, sex isn’t everything. It’s a lot, but it’s not everything.
  4. I cannot listen to things which, had they been said by anyone else, I would’ve banged my fist on the table and demanded that the person, “Stop Talking Rot!” (and I’m not sure it’s not, “Bally Rot!”), but since they come from the mouth of my girlfriend, I must listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen…
  5. I’ll also have to talk “Bally Rot!”. I cannot send heart-icon text messages or stuff like, “Do not sleep with a broken heart, for that heart is mine…” at midnight, rather than sending “We’re trashing Roma 6-0! This is fuckincreadible!” Or call her things like “sweetie” while she calls me “jaanu“.
  6. It can’t always be my fault. No it’s not! Goddammit!
  7. I haven’t seen ONE relationship where the guy and the girl discuss something remotely intellectual. I have seen too many relationships where all discussions are gossip.

There are perhaps more reasons, but they’ve been discussed to death and I’m starving, so I’ll stop here. To any person of the opposite sex who’s reading this (I have 1,800 hits… 1200 are Nimish, 400 are Dinesh and 189 are mine… that’s 11 readers), no offence. Nothing against you. I just value my sanity too much. Or rather, my insanity.

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Filed under *cough cough* comedy, College, Crap Rating- *****, Ideas, Life, No, Rants, Relationshits, The Bullshit Is Out There