Saved

Lemon Girl's Dad Randomly Talking:
Noooo. Lemons and green text don't go together well. Too bright and flashy.
The picture is too sad. Dead almost. Let's get a new one.
Not the best design, but it'll have to do. I wonder what the fascination for lemons is about..

Meanwhile, Lemon Girl is shitting in her pants.
Dad then calls Lemon Girl.
Lemon Girl prepares to bid the internet, mobile phone and all else that loved her goodbye.

Lemon Girl Says: Yes Dad? What about the lemons?

Lemon Girl's Dad: I just discovered

Lemon Girl (cutting in): I can explain.

Lemon Girl's Dad: You can? Good. Because these new posters for the office walls look very badly designed to me. Is it new-age art or something?

Lemon Girl develops a look of permanent incredulity on her face.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend

When I said it’s over, I meant it.
You were and will be one of my closest friends.
I still think you’re insanely annoying.
Please do not put me in a funk with your sweet talks.
There is no future for us.
Oh what did you say? Yes indeed, I would like to make out.

#Lesson for today: Oh well. Sometimes we never learn.

(My absence was because Blogger is far too important to sort out blog malfunctions for moi.)

Bad, bad, booze

Sleepovers can be the best times you will ever have with friends. Experience dictates that this possible only if people sleep by 1 am. Any later, the alcohol will take effect and lead to emotional outbursts and heavy confessions that become heart breaking. You feel betrayed and entrenched in a swirling pit of feelings that do not belong to your own heart.

Realizing, that you have unknowingly worn a mask of impenetrable happiness for so long that people feel you talk about problems only to make your friends feel like they are not alone in sadness. Being proud, of having unwittingly fulfilled the one dream your parents had for you. And then wanting to rebel and disillusion them.

Alcohol is not meant for everybody. Especially those who cocoon themselves up to a point that they forget what they were hiding from.

#Lesson for today: I can handle my alcohol and my shit without keeping myself bottled up. It's apparently a skill.

Sanity

Waste not, Want not?

Poll

New Blog Look is:

No longer new. Just keeping a different header.

The colour scheme is back, in face of disapproval from everybody. I didn't even know some of these people read the damn blog. :D

Men and dogs should be ashamed

It's no surprise that men and dogs are so often compared to each other.

When men and dogs go out and have riotous love affairs with women, no one raises an eyebrow. It's expected of them, is it not? That they shall forever be casanova's and reign o'er the world of us women with power?

And when women have nothing more than a casual chat with another man/dog, we are questioned and sniffed with an air of hurt and sorrow that can surpass Macbeth. The eccentricity of it all. When shall it end?

#Lesson for today: Don't go for those puppy eyes. They're very clever.

Mothers!!!

It's not like I particularly want an easy life devoid of any global consciousness, but for the love of Christ I need one right now.

Me and father are very environmentally conscious and off late having been making attempts to reduce the carbon footprint and conserve water. We also donate a small sum towards animal conservation; GreenPeace et al. Mother's daily water consumption could save a decent hand holding in Vidarbha from drought. I shit you not. The woman simply dumps water like it was garbage. Not to mention the amount of plastic bottles she leaves in the trail behind her. And if we stopped her purchases of clothes each month, we could in effect donate a lot more to charity than we are at the moment.

But being the classist, elitist, uncaring, unconcerned, "I-Shall-Live-In-My-Shell" person that she has become, our fights will continue for many more years to come.

#Lesson for today: Parents. Selfish, Socially Unaware, Irresponsible. And then they have the nerve to tell us off.

Oh, the beauty.

Your fairy is called Gossamer Moonweb

She is the moon goddess's messenger.

She lives in spider-webbed wonderlands and insect grottos.

She is only seen in the mist of an early morning.

She wears tiny black spiders on her dresses. She has beautiful blue butterfly wings.

Get your free fairy name here!

#Lesson for today: I'm starting to accept my friend's conclusion that I am an evil thing.

Behold a moth

♫ Visualize, if you will, a sweet little moth who has harmed no one during its small and inconsequential life on the planet. Imagine it fluttering peacefully amidst the tempting world of darkness and staying firm on its path. Suddenly, out of nowhere the hand of fate (or the neighbourhood cat) strikes and grabs the moth.

Imagine, its wings now lay broken and it bleeds away all it had accumulated in the name of life. It opens its mouth to speak but only broken rattles escape, reminiscent of the ghost from Grudge. Grim Reaper arrives, counting down the last minutes of life as a frenzied panic erupts in the heart of the moth. The realization of death is not easy to bear.

Imagine it gulping for air and softly dying, losing the precious shine from eyes, one Microsoft word page at a time. Imagine, the cruel world laughing at its feeble attempts to wake up and live. One last time, struggle to live.

Now imagine, that little moth is me doing research.

My papa

My dear, darling Father can make an entire mall collectively shit in their pants. He positively terrorizes hawkers and can be quite gruff with errant waiters. All of this without even realizing what he's done. To begin with, the man can bargain. He can make one of those toughened Sabzi Mandi bargaining bitch women look like unsophisticated amateurs. It probably has something to do with that voice of his. It's a deep baritone, with a ringing clarity to it. It makes matters worse for the salesmen when he addresses them in very courteous language. It's almost like; my father is one of those specimens they warn you about.

He'll also somehow manage to convey the fact that he will walk away with the merchandize for free, in case stipulated terms and conditions are not met. In most cases, you can be sure to meet the manager of the store. He made the CCD chap regret the day he filled out an application form for the job position. I'm past the point of getting embarrassed; I end up giggling hysterically and passing sympathetic looks to the other person.

And once all the terrorizing is over, we get great deals and freebies. He's fun.

#Lesson for today: My papa can be awesome.

Oh Shyt.

I just saw some women being turned on and suitably seduced by Mithun Da sucking on her leg.

And then I saw Ravi Behl being turned on and suitably seduced by the ugliest of them village-not-so-belles.

I may never be able to regain my ability to be sexually excited again.

#Lesson for today: Avoid such movies. They ruin sex lives.

The thing is..

I hate Diwali. Totally & Absolutely do.

Bloody Noise. Bloody Pollution. Bloody Irritating TV Specials.

I am cranky every single Diwali and have not broken the tradition this year. I shall be extremely thankful when this entire festivity ends. I miss pathos and general suffering. Even the terrorists ditched me this time around.

Still, I'll be nice for once.

Hope all of you have a wonderful day.