tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87346802024-03-12T20:33:48.882-07:00sssssshhhhhhh..."Silence can be misinterpretated but cant be misquoted."~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-11199374351323145002011-10-15T01:13:00.000-07:002013-01-15T05:08:01.635-08:00Revival<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Those who know me beyond blog, know being lazy is how i give back to the society. I guess about time i reclaim my life.</div>
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Hopefully, this time i'll continue writing. Its 2 in the afternoon, but this for sure calls for a toast.</div>
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Cheers !!</div>
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~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-28150440697875315892009-01-09T02:25:00.000-08:002009-01-10T00:44:25.797-08:00A big FUCK OFF<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> 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mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" >In no specific order
<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" >I’m tired of media cashing on every tragedy: </span></b><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" >Every time a dog pees on a car in Delhi, a Barbie falls on the face of earth from 22<sup>nd</sup> floor in Mumbai, a crow dumps on Mayawati (I wish) or the latest shortcut to fame – a particularly self involved kid falls in some remote unfinished bore well: its Christmas time at Aaj Tak’s office. Not just the journalist will have a ball smashing microphone at everyone’s face instead of helping, news readers will keep reminding you every 30 seconds.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style=";font-family:";color:black;" >I'm tired of hearing people argue about abortion, quota row, female infanticide, mercy killing and all the other bullshit that makes up the average Indian political discussion board: </span></b><span style=";font-family:";color:black;" >It’s good that you’re arguing. But just for a change have you consider listening to what people on the other side are ranting about? If you do not care for the ideas presented by the other side, why even bother participating: might as well blurt out your partisan argument to a wall. It’s not like you are helping your case by selective acknowledgement of the obvious.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style=";font-family:";color:black;" >I’m tired of short term memory loss: </span></b><span style=";font-family:";color:black;" >more commonly known as, oh fuck!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style=";font-family:";color:black;" >I’m tired of self-help authors telling me how to live MY life: </span></b><span style=";font-family:";color:black;" >You think people like to constantly frown as if someone buried their face in a 10 ft deep pit filled with cow-shit? Well for this once, try to have a look at life from their point of view. My advice to you is put your pen down and bullshit before a person who isn’t already a designated loser. </span><span style=";font-family:";" >You'll end up empty-handed like every other shallow idiot in the room</span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;color:black;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p><b>I'm tired of science being set back by superstition:</b> Human Genome Project receives little-to-no government support in India because of our moronic Prime Minister's twisted religious beliefs and woeful understanding of biology. The Big Bang Experiment at NASA keeps receiving lawsuits from paranoid dimwits with a limited knowledge of Physics who think slamming a few protons together is going to destroy the universe. And this hasn't happened yet, but eventually some idiot "numerologist" is going to freak out and try to ban Calculus for fear of causing the Apocalypse. I wish I'm exaggerating. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=";font-family:";" >I'm tired of people whinging that TV and movies are getting blood obsessed for them:</span></b><span style=";font-family:";" > The developers of TV also give a freebee called remote control with it and you dont have to take lessons from Mr Poirot to look for it. Try pressing that red button on top corner before crying out loud. My suggestion to you is to get a DTH and subscribe Pogo for your sorry ass. And before you walk out of your momma’s lap, please throw away your rose tinted ridiculous idea of the world and face it head on. Dodge this.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=";font-family:";" >I’m tired of people blaming my music for death of their sex life:</span></b><span style=";font-family:";" > If it did, let me play a record or two of Cannibal Corpse so it ends the remote possibility of you procreating. Its not my fault that you were busy chasing butterflies when He was distributing sense, connoisseur for creativity and music, fresh unprejudiced brains, better eardrums and mojo. The gene pool you are creating is anyways a total trash and not just by Spartan standards. Your DNA is not even worth a bottle of formaldehyde. So let me start by crashing a cymbal on your head, stuffing your elephant ear in my sub woofer and disclosing the fact of your slothful penis by confronting it to nude cheerleaders.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=";font-family:";" >I’m tired of people crying after 2 shots of tequila: </span></b><span style=";font-family:";" >Our own Uncle Sam made coke for kids like you and then they made Diet Coke for the fussy ones. 50% alcohol is for people who CAN handle it. How I wish your age reduce by one year every time you sulk, I’m sure it would make your case more curious than that of Benjamin Button. And I know I’m a very good person but I’m not a brother of a cry baby.</span><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> ~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-28990047927484790232009-01-02T23:11:00.000-08:002009-01-05T04:59:37.544-08:00Football Porn ?Homosexuality is a touchy subject; gay footballers even more so.<br /><br />When you consider that footballers are invariably looked upon as role models for children (for better or worse), many otherwise liberal and politically-correct parents would throw a fit if they found out their precious offspring was idolizing a baller sporting a chin-strap, and I’m not talking about Mr Cech.<br /><br />There’s a time and place for being sensitive and to deal with issues in seriousness - but most of the time, football is just football - entertainment for those playing and entertainment for those watching. And if the entertainment turns into sexual innuendo, as any contact sport invariably does, then we’re on the front line cheering on the participants while pointing and laughing at the same time.<br /><br />Enough talking - here’s a look at some of the less serious moments in football. Football is not gay, and footballers are usually not gay, but if there was a gay football team, would feel comfortable watching such photos of them?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAgZ9fF6I/AAAAAAAACe4/dNWBEc3qQwc/s1600-h/buffon-henry-150x150.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAgZ9fF6I/AAAAAAAACe4/dNWBEc3qQwc/s200/buffon-henry-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287789469210974114" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAgR1hrXI/AAAAAAAACew/vvkmK2K4H0g/s1600-h/berbatov1-150x150.jpg"> <img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAgR1hrXI/AAAAAAAACew/vvkmK2K4H0g/s200/berbatov1-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287789467030105458" border="0" /> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAf1M71pI/AAAAAAAACeo/4dVMajKl-n0/s1600-h/52980228-150x150.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAf1M71pI/AAAAAAAACeo/4dVMajKl-n0/s200/52980228-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287789459343660690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAf1M71pI/AAAAAAAACeo/4dVMajKl-n0/s1600-h/52980228-150x150.jpg"> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAfnEFHeI/AAAAAAAACeg/K9oZYX2ynZc/s1600-h/73656c2a41f4f13cd52af138-150x150.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIAfnEFHeI/AAAAAAAACeg/K9oZYX2ynZc/s200/73656c2a41f4f13cd52af138-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287789455548423650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWICcCdigyI/AAAAAAAACfA/18R5UBgoph4/s1600-h/celebrations-150x150.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWICcCdigyI/AAAAAAAACfA/18R5UBgoph4/s200/celebrations-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287791593206743842" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIC0gR0XJI/AAAAAAAACfY/unzTWa-XPqw/s1600-h/manchester-city-150x150.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIC0gR0XJI/AAAAAAAACfY/unzTWa-XPqw/s200/manchester-city-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287792013527506066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIC0p8xfFI/AAAAAAAACfQ/mGMUAhpgQhM/s1600-h/fener-gala-150x150.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWIC0p8xfFI/AAAAAAAACfQ/mGMUAhpgQhM/s200/fener-gala-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287792016123591762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWICs5vf-tI/AAAAAAAACfI/74kcpSFrWcA/s1600-h/darko-150x150.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/SWICs5vf-tI/AAAAAAAACfI/74kcpSFrWcA/s200/darko-150x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287791882923932370" border="0" /></a>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-80732694230005913162008-09-14T12:38:00.000-07:002008-09-15T02:28:55.914-07:00A talk to remember<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> 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lang="EN-US">Few days back D was being at leisure on a scarlet lonely beach in a white shirt, really short shorts, slippers and a can of beer. She was sitting right by F who was decked in a floral tank top, red frilled skirt and bare feet with a Pinacolada in her hand. D was staring in the oblivion and F was trying to write something on the sand against the mighty waves. Dusk, wind, beach and alcohol. Girls tell each other everything, they say.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">F:</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> <i style="">So what do you think of him ?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">D :</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> <i style="">Him, who ?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">F :</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> <i style="">You know..</i></span><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">D :</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> <i style="">Oh he !!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US">Most people think he is crazy, but I dont believe that.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US">I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got him all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just does not explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he is a retard, a big brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that does not have the right ring to it either. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US">No, it’s like there is nothing wrong with him, nothing at all - except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battle field swinging an ax, into somebody's face. Or in a Roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him...<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep !!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span lang="EN-US">Snoooooooooooooze !!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">F rolled over to drop a glance on her cell. 8:05 AM. Unwillingly, she picked up her toothbrush from the cup, and mumbled as she moved towards bathroom “Damn it!! I hate early morn snoozes.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span lang="EN-US"></span></p> ~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-36859215424592891482008-08-07T01:26:00.000-07:002008-08-07T01:32:54.714-07:00Stock market buffs - Interesting Analysis<div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> <div> <p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">A young and pretty lady posted this on a popular forum:</span></span></p></div></div> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><b><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 10pt;">Title</span></span></b><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> : What should I do to marry a rich guy?</span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I'm going to be honest of what I'm going to say here. I'm 25 this year. I'm very pretty, have style and good taste. I wish to marry a guy with $500k annual salary or above. You might say that I'm greedy, but an annual salary of $1M is considered only as middle class in New York. My requirement is not high. Is there anyone in this forum who has an income of $500k annual salary? Are you all married? I wanted to ask: what should I do to marry rich persons like you? Among those I've dated, the richest is $250k annual income, and it seems that this is my upper limit. If someone is going to move into high cost residential area on the west of New York City Garden (?), $250k annual income is not enough. </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I'm here humbly to ask a few questions:</span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">1) Where do most rich bachelors hang out? (Please list down the names and addresses of bars, restaurant, and gym)</span></span> </p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">2) Which age group should I target?</span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">3) Why most wives of the riches is only average-looking? I've met a few girls who don't have looks and are not interesting, but they are able to marry rich guys </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">4) How do you decide who can be your wife, and who can only be your girlfriend? (My target now is to get married)</span></span> </p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Ms. Pretty</span></span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:navy;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; color: navy; font-family: Verdana;"> </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">------------------------------<wbr>-</span></span> </p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><b><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 10pt;">Here's a reply from a Wall Street Financial guy:</span></span></b></p> <p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Dear Ms. Pretty,</span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I have read your post with great interest. Guess there are lots of girls out there who have similar questions like yours. Please allow me to analyze your situation as a professional investor. My annual income is more than $500k, which meets your requirement, so I hope everyone believes that I'm not wasting time here. >From the standpoint of a business person, it is a bad decision to marry you. The answer is very simple, so let me explain. Put the details aside, what you're trying to do is an exchange of "beauty" and "money": Person A provides beauty, and Person B pays for it, fair and square. However, there's a deadly problem here, your beauty will fade, but my money will not be gone without any good reason. The fact is, my income might increase from year to year, but you can't be prettier year after year. Hence from the viewpoint of economics, I am an appreciation asset, and you are a depreciation asset. It's not just normal depreciation, but exponential depreciation. If that is your only asset, your value will be much worried 10 years later. </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">By the terms we use in Wall Street, every trading has a position, dating with you is also a "trading position". If the trade value dropped we will sell it and it is not a good idea to keep it for long term – same goes with the marriage that you wanted. It might be cruel to say this, but in order to make a wiser decision any assets with great depreciation value will be sold or "leased". Anyone with over $500k annual income is not a fool; we would only date you, but will not marry you. I would advice that you forget looking for any clues to marry a rich guy. And by the way, you could make yourself to become a rich person with $500k annual income. This has better chance than finding a rich fool. </span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Hope this reply helps. If you are interested in "leasing" services, do contact me…</span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Signed,</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">J.P. Morgan</span></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">------------------------------<wbr>-</span></span> </p> <p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Here's a reply from oh-not-so-dumb blonde:</span></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 13px;font-family:Verdana, Arial;" >To the gentleman who called me a depreciating asset<br /><br /><br /> Dear Sir,<br /><br />I must confess that I was somewhat taken aback upon reading your email. Indeed, it has taken some time for me to sufficiently recuperate from my surprise. Lest your confidence quickly inflate for little reason (as we know is the predisposition for Wall St. types), allow me to hasten to reassure you that the source of my surprise was neither your candor nor the accuracy of your perception. Indeed, it is your "claimed" success in light of your poor grasp of economics which has me baffled. If the standards required to meet with financial success on Wall St. have sunk so low, perhaps I should indeed "make my own money", except for the fact that the effort/reward ratio is far too high for my liking - especially when so many of your ilk have displayed a far more cogent grasp of market realities than you have.<br /><br />By now you are likely scratching your ever-vanishing hairline in confusion, so allow me to elaborate. To build some credibility I will tell you a bit more about yourself. Though you did not mention the details of your occupation, it is clear that you are an investment banker and not a trader, as any good trader would understand that human courtships are based upon a semi-efficient open market, and not an investment banking cartel. However, your inability to grasp the realities of the dating market is not surprising, given that you have successfully employed the tools of collusion and market manipulation rather that true acumen in your supposed wealth generation.<br /><br />If your grasp of finance were not a minority partner with your ego, you would realize that the "outflows" associated with my depreciating "assets" are quite certain, and therefore subject to a low discount rate when determining their present value. In addition, though your concept of economics evidentially failed to move past the 1950s, advancement in plastic surgery is not subject to the same limitation. Thus, with some additional capital expenditure, the overall lifetime of "outflows" generated by these assets is greatly increased. Sad that Ashton Kutcher has demonstrated understanding of the female asset class which you, in all of your financial "wisdom", have not.<br /><br />You, on the other hand, are, given the uncertainty of the Wall St. job market, more of an inflation-indexed junk bond with an underwater nested call option. Though you may argue that you are more of an equity investment, my monetary minimums required from you do not change, and if you are unable to pay them, I will liquidate you without the benefit of a chapter 11, just as you would me.<br /><br />Because your outflows are so much more uncertain with respect to mine, I require additional compensation in the form of a underwater nested call option on your future assets. I say underwater because, even taking into account the value of your junk bond coupon payment to me, the value of my "outflow" is in excess of the market price of your equity (which is quite low due to its riskiness associated with your poor grasp of finance and my existing claim upon your junk bond coupon).<br /><br />I must thank you though for raising the question, despite the reputation cost of subjecting your weak logic to such widespread scrutiny. This took either considerable courage or ignorance on your part- and we'll give you the benefit of doubt, just this once. My current boyfriend (a trader who lives in Central Park West, of course) and I thoroughly enjoyed discussing your response and we wish you the best of luck in your unhappy pursuit of that elusive market inefficiency.</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);">Ms. Pretty<br /></p><div style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><div><span id="q_116c5d4b0faafafc_1" class="WQ9l9c"><br /></span></div></div><p><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:navy;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; color: navy;"></span></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"></span></span></p> <span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:navy;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; color: navy; font-family: Verdana;"></span></span>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-21730040225721094592008-06-22T05:19:00.000-07:002008-06-22T05:26:19.952-07:00Football Match Preview: Euro vs. Pound<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLORDAN%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> 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mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">What happens when you start reading BBC football transfer gossips amidst your daily doses of Bloombergs, Moneycontrols, Economic Times’ and Wall Street Journals? An economic dribbling I’d say.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Euro has strengthened considerably with respect to GBP in last one year. Currently GBP/Euro ratio is hovering around 1.26 while last year <b style=""><i style="">same time</i></b> it was around 1.47. Now the importance of same time is linked to the fact that it is the time of season when soccer clubs managers start nagging their directors/owners for fatter cheque books. Transfer season is embarking upon them and all the European big shots have already started working on their scout reports.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">“How does it matter?”<span style=""> </span>I hear you ask-Well, it does. Especially to English clubs owing to the fact that other European clubs have their transfer budget in Euros. For example consider transfer of almost discarded Brazilian prodigy Ronaldinho. <span style=""> </span>He is valued around 40 million Euros by the Catalan club. Assuming that his valuation has not changed in last one year, mere inflation has changed his price from 27.2 million GBP (40/1.47) to 31.7 million GBP (10/1.26). This extra 4.5 million GBP can cost English clubs dearly while their European rivals still have to pay same 40 million Euros. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Applying reverse engineering to the argument makes players in Premiership an easy target for European giants. Regressing further, <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">England</st1:place></st1:country-region> team did manage to <b style=""><i style="">not</i></b> qualify for Euro 2008 which basically means no divine heroics to be seen by top flight English players, who mostly play in Premiership, to boost up their prices in international transfer market. With lot of Premiership clubs looking for new managers this season, it’s going to repercuss their budget even more. One way English clubs can salvage from this plight of inflation is browse and hunt within shore. But that will further devalue Premiership players.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">According to latest Forbes reports, there are 6 English clubs in top 20 richest clubs of the world but equation might wobble big time post season. Will the financial blasphemy of English clubs be confronted by the Reals, Barcas, Milans and Bayerns? How much will they make use of this loot? Will it give all the more reason for young South Americans to join Portuguese and Spanish clubs and not English? Are English clubs going to raise record breaking funds this summer or is it going to be mutual transfer agreements amongst them?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">It’s going to be an interesting transfer season this time.</span></p> ~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-8150356118162707652008-02-06T04:30:00.000-08:002008-02-06T05:22:22.983-08:00The Hacker's Manifesto<h2 align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"> The <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/hacker.html">Hacker</a> Manifesto </span></h2> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"> by<br /> +++The Mentor+++<br /> Written January 8, 1986<br /></span> </p> <p align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "<a href="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/hacker.html">Hacker</a><br /><br /> Damn kids. They're all alike.<br /><br /> But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the <a href="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/hacker.html">hacker</a>? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?<br /><br /> I am a <a href="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/hacker.html">hacker</a>, enter my world...<br /><br /> Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...<br /><br /> Damn underachiever. They're all alike.<br /><br /> I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."<br /><br /> Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.<br /><br /> I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me... Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I'm a smart ass.. Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...<br /><br /> Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.<br /><br /> And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...<br /><br />Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...<br /><br /> You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert. <br /><br />This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.<br /><br />Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.<br /><br /> I am a <a href="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/hacker.html">hacker</a>, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike. Arrested after Bank Tampering"...</span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Considered to be the cornerstone of hacker's psychology, this piece is bible for new hackers. This piece defines the ethical guidelines they abide by, for hacking is quest for knowledge and not the act of harassing people. This manifesto is to provide them light, when they are lost in their moral lapses. Not just for hackers, but for all this is an anthem. A torchbearer. A philosophy. A Life. </span><p align="center"> <span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/index.html"><img src="http://www.mithral.com/%7Ebeberg/images/watermark.gif" alt="" border="0" height="8" width="10" /></a></span> </p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-9678698325006134002008-01-03T05:04:00.000-08:002008-06-22T05:25:17.498-07:00The ITC Story<p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span style="font-style: italic;">DISCLAIMER:<span style="font-style: italic;"> Few facts have been molded, curbed, exaggerated to spice up the story.</span></span><br /><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Scene 1: Embezzlement<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Holy Fuck” said I, jumping up from a cosy sofa of lounge at ITC Sonar Bangla when S called me up saying that we were conned and the passes we bought for the New Year bash were fake. My next reaction was – “<i style="">Ha-ha!! Very funny, smart ass. Tell me where to come. In fact, please come and escort us. Over and out!!</i>” I turned towards other four who were busy bitching about the vile traffic jams of “city of joy” and staring two hot chicks by the corridor. I reiterated S’ words and burst out laughing. But before our smiles faded, we saw all the dorks, including S coming towards us. Well, Atlas did shrug and we were conned.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The quest for dinner began.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Scene 2: The cracks of imperfect focus group<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In P’s room six-seven ‘<i style="">non-sceptic-fairly-optimistic-hardball-attitude’</i> studs sat together exploring the options which included a trip on a barge, a bar-b-que, hotel Radisson’s party and of course coveted “ITC Sonar Bangla” party. Hasty scheduling and lack of prior planning directed first two options off-stage. For remaining two, choice was not that hard to make. Monetary optimizations, ease of conveyance, brand name and most of all a miraculous discount made it quite an <s>obvious</s> unanimous select.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>ITC it is. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Scene 3: Hysteria<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">No other word can describe what we witnessed at <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Park Street</st1:address></st1:street>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Post dinner, we guys turned on the damage recovery mode and decided to conclude the mishap by having a decent cup of coffee @ Park Street Barista. Little did we know that the hypothesis “’<i style="">Just when you think that life can not suck anymore, a bird shits on you.</i>’ was true. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hooligans were erupting at <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Park Street</st1:address></st1:street>. A wheelie, ugly naked dance on the middle of the street, whacky fights, drunken snotty bastards; they were all available, absolutely free of cost. But the deranged of the evening award goes to bunch of reckless boys which were coming out of a speeding car and pilling beer all over. And guess who the greatest cheerleaders were?? No points for the answer, “The ever alert Kolkata Police”.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Even guy were feeling pretty vulnerable, I couldn’t possibly fathom about the fairer sex. So amidst all the mayhem we decided to hide out in less affordable but better guarded <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Hotel</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Scene 4: The Park Scenario<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like refugees of park street frenzy, we were bestowed shelter in <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Hotel</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Hell, it was crowded. Understandably we didn’t expect to get entry at any pub, disc or bar, but all we asked for was a little attitude from the coffee shop. Alas!! Lady luck was pissed with us and not just coffee shop but even the lounge was mobbed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Drunken rabbles were everywhere, from sofa to floor, from dance floor to stairs. But the scene was in male restroom. A guy sunk in his own puke was lying unconscious. <i style="">Man unleashes the beast within on special occasions, location no bar.</i> Finally authorities called up an ambulance and the last I remember was when I saw them lifting him like a sack and taking him away.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyways petrified of the whole incidence and considering the safety of girls, we headed back to joka-land only to get mocked and deprecated by fellas.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Scene 5: The diamond in the coal mine<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Amongst all this crazy set of events, there was a time when clock strike 12. All of us losers, how much ever I don’t want to use this word but can’t find a better fit, were sitting in Balwant ka Dhaba licking our fingers. Not that food was that delicious, but anything after such an atrocious night had to be sweet. Nevertheless, lassi was some serious gourmet shit and was designated toast for the evening. It was the most festive moment of one of the most unforgettable night of my life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had seen enough for the day, so thought we, before heading for a coffee.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Scene 6: Verdict<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. It may not be the way I conceptualized. But I did spend my new year with my friends; with people who mattered. <span style=""> </span>Few of them were missing, but then... </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This time it was different from the usual jazz. Two five stars, one dhaba, one coffee shop and countless hooligans; we did all. Its not about blame game or fault analysis, but forgetting about the sunk cost. The lassi toast, the awesome group hug, I shall never forget this New Year. :)<br /></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-8904375612360389882007-12-21T14:21:00.000-08:002007-12-22T07:58:29.311-08:00Taare Zameen Par<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/R2w9Dl9ycbI/AAAAAAAABvA/8E6TqLy4XiU/s1600-h/TaareZameenPar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/R2w9Dl9ycbI/AAAAAAAABvA/8E6TqLy4XiU/s320/TaareZameenPar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146555606117806514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Such untainted was Amol Gupta’s effort with the script that I was overwhelmed. Simplicity and sincerity were the key ingredients of Aamir Khan’s directorial debut “Tare Zameen Par”. And during the first 15 minutes of the movie I could draw parallels with my life of all the mundane commotions of our naïve protagonist Ishaan, which by the way gave a splendid performance.<br /><br />The innate similitudes took me back in time when I use to toss gazillion innovative bahanas to bunk school just for one day, pull some crazy prank, add layers of mud over me by the time I am back from school, virtually box with kids next door, run for a kite, get pampered by mom when dad was designated villain, indulge in rowdy peer comparisons, lie precariously, unleash those captive imaginations in most dilapidated manner, fancy a virtual friend, get over protective about my baby sis, get thrown out from class for every single possible reason, get notes of excellence and not-so-excellence and even worse, of disapprobation.<br /><br />I did it all and I relived those moments when Ishaan did it. Its not about whether it was appropriate or not or my guilt conscious was taking command or something; it just rejuvenated those careless, or should I say apathetic days of my life. It was about the time when I used to be wacky and reckless. Thinking of consequences was not my obligation; ma-pa did that for me. All I was supposed to do was to do, do whatever I please, however I please.<br /><br />The childhood that’s eroding with every passing day, was gifted back to me in those 3 hours. The genuineness of the movie was because director himself was living each of the moment with Ishaan. There is a scene, where Ishaan was getting late for school and while running for the bus, he saw a mud-hole. He jumped and splashed it all over. Now to think of it, you need to be a kid. You and I are probably too self-conscious to do something like this now, even to think of it. The scene of flipbook exposed the vulnerability of a 9 year old. A thing like this requires getting into the script, feeling the mood of the movie and most importantly pouring your heart out. Aamir did that.<br /><br />The second half of the movie was even better. It strikes a chord, leaves a itch somewhere. Parents do make their child live their dream, many a times forcefully. Imaginations are curbed as we grow older. Instincts are kept at bay and materialistic results become the benchmark of life. Dreamers, by default, are labelled as losers.<br /><br />This movie dares to ask why!! And such innocent, yet mature is the approach that it makes you think. It compels introspection. The impact travels from heart to brain, from emotions to thoughts.<br /><br />It raises even bigger issues like why in a country like India with such a diverse population; innovation is still an occasional hunch. Why do people here make run of a mill choice and not think beyond the horizon? Why kids like Ishaan have to struggle because they dare to be Howard Roark? The flaw is inherent in us and we all are responsible shelling million kids like Ishaan.<br /><br />So after all this, do I think I’ll let my kid be so independent that it exempts me from his/her every action? The answer is NO. But then that’s the discussion of some other day. This day and this post is about the movie “Taare Zameen Par”. This movie made its way in coveted “Anshul’s Fav Movie” list and I’ll ask all the readers of this blog to do yourself a favour. You owe it to Ishaan in you.<br /><br />p.s. I don’t feel like discussing the acting, animation and all those things. Trust me, they were all secondary. But before I forget to mention, lyrics and music were phenomenal.~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-85067721337556199882007-12-18T14:22:00.000-08:002007-12-18T14:55:02.585-08:00Conquer AllSo everyone is talking about how impressive Liverpool were in the Champions League game against Marseille. But does anyone realize that we lost to Reading? The fact is simple. Rafeal Benitez is not getting it right with his tinkering and priorities.<br /><br />Ask any Liverpool fan and I am sure you will get the same answer. The one trophy we all want to see at Anfield come end of the season is the Barclays Premier League title. A Champions League trophy will be a great bonus but surely a club of our stature should be challenging on all fronts? So what happened at the Madejski Stadium was an absolute disgrace. The reasons are simple.<br /><br />First of all, we started the game with a good first eleven consisting of Steven Gerrard and Fernando Torres. Both are amongst the world’s best in their positions so why do they only bring their ‘A’ game to the field in the big games? Time and again this season, they have shown us the amazing skills and precision they possess but does it only come in spurts? They should be playing as brilliantly as we know they can week in, week out. Not just in every alternate game or when the big games come along. Against Reading, both were off-colour and neither one seemed interested in winning it.<br /><br />Are Marseille more important that Reading? No. Both are just as important and if a squad the size of two first elevens assembled through a huge financial outlay cannot handle playing two games a week, then what more do we need? Fifty men squads?<br /><br />Secondly, I would like to let Benitez in on one thing. Liverpool is a club renowned all over the world for its great history and stature. Never has any Liverpool manager in our history ever dared think of conceding defeat until the final whistle goes.<br /><br />And right there at the Madjeski Stadium, the much loved Liverpool club conceded defeat. Our manager took our two best players off to protect them from injury and even the most ignorant football fan could see that he decided that the game was lost and conceded defeat. It is a shame to see us giving up on a game just because our manager had his priorities elsewhere.<br /><br />And finally, stop the demands for funds. Millions have been given to you these past years and you have invested on the supposed players you need to bring glory back to Anfield. Like any child would be told by a doting parent, money doesn’t fall from the skies. You need some, you earn some. In Liverpool’s case, sell the players you think are not of your standard and use that money to buy the players you want. Simple logic.<br /><br />With that said, the Anfield supporters have waited long and hard for a league title. And with the amount of money thrown into buying players, it is time for us to see some results.<br /><br />And just in case my stand isn’t clear enough, Liverpool never concede defeat. Not till the final whistle anyway. So wear your hearts on your sleeves and bring us that title! I believe we have what it takes to make sure the ribbons on the league trophy come end of the season will be red, red and nothing but red.~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-58610478892241947412007-12-07T07:16:00.000-08:002007-12-18T14:41:34.524-08:00LITBM : Here Comes Another BubbleI'm putting up something after God knows how long. Well, sorry for being so irregular and hopefully i'd match my used-to-be frequency soon :). But for now, enjoi this video. Hilarious !!<br /><br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fi4fzvQ6I-o&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fi4fzvQ6I-o&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed></object>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-62724572107890008282007-10-07T02:32:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:52:06.905-08:00the b-skool melodramaa blog dedicated to these awesome 3 months at joka. No text, just visuals.<br />~ensoi<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rwiob3YNeNI/AAAAAAAABkQ/e1FIXUj2zKk/s1600-h/A+walk+thru+Joka.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rwiob3YNeNI/AAAAAAAABkQ/e1FIXUj2zKk/s320/A+walk+thru+Joka.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118526173181999314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rwio53YNeQI/AAAAAAAABko/vvfO70B-K3g/s1600-h/IMG_4836.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rwio53YNeQI/AAAAAAAABko/vvfO70B-K3g/s320/IMG_4836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118526688578074882" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipWnYNeTI/AAAAAAAABlA/YTps0L8xsxo/s1600-h/18072007112.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipWnYNeTI/AAAAAAAABlA/YTps0L8xsxo/s320/18072007112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118527182499313970" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipRnYNeSI/AAAAAAAABk4/TPzvMcHm3fc/s1600-h/04082007159.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipRnYNeSI/AAAAAAAABk4/TPzvMcHm3fc/s320/04082007159.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118527096599968034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipLnYNeRI/AAAAAAAABkw/rn3bk-5esTI/s1600-h/0723_011515.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipLnYNeRI/AAAAAAAABkw/rn3bk-5esTI/s320/0723_011515.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118526993520752914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipgHYNeUI/AAAAAAAABlI/dMfuszgP60A/s1600-h/DSC00251.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/RwipgHYNeUI/AAAAAAAABlI/dMfuszgP60A/s320/DSC00251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118527345708071234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rwipp3YNeVI/AAAAAAAABlQ/NYHmZiC-hIM/s1600-h/DSC00461+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rwipp3YNeVI/AAAAAAAABlQ/NYHmZiC-hIM/s320/DSC00461+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118527513211795794" border="0" /></a><br />~earlydays@joka~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-76260313106875846642007-09-10T07:26:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:48:58.070-08:00cheers !!After financial accounting exam, me and my screwed ass were both in a pretty bad shape. As an angel AC came to my rescue and gave me Madhushala sung by Manna Dey. The poem is amazing to read but even better to listen. In the song the sequence has been tampered with, nevertheless i love it. One of <span style="font-weight: bold;">THE</span> philosophies of life. This is my favourite part from the poem.<br /><br />So here is to all bevdas/bevdis, students/employed ones, happy/sad souls and of course to that screwed up end term<br /><br />एक बरस में, एक बार ही जगती होली की ज्वाला,<br />एक बार ही लगती बाज़ी, जलती दीपों की माला,<br />दुनियावालों, किन्तु, किसी दिन आ मदिरालय में देखो,<br />दिन को होली, रात दिवाली, रोज़ मनाती मधुशाला<br /><br />cheers !!~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-54812606039139222412007-08-29T11:06:00.000-07:002008-06-22T05:25:17.500-07:00I am a …<p class="MsoNormal">Few days back I was thinking, which animal I share most traits with. Weird indeed, but last few days have not been the most relaxed ones as well, so expected out of an exhausted mind. Unfortunately I was at my self-deprecation best. The answer came out as “PIG” which is gross, but a surprising fit. The common characteristics include</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Filth:</b> Those who know me but at all, knows how dirty I am and more than that how comfortable I am being that way. Somehow it’s true for most of the guys, but I take this acceptance to preference. Taking bath is waste of time, water, soap and all those things. A jeans is preferred over trousers because one can wear it for a month without even bothering to wash it. Why bother cleaning room, when one anyways walks in it with slippers on. These thoughts are now philosophy of life. <span style=""> </span>And pigs!! Do I even need to start on this?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Omnivorous:</b> A lot of people claim to eat everything, but with few exceptions. But genuine connoisseurs of food are pigs and yours truly. Eat whatever is there without cribs and whines. Preferences of course are there but certainly no constraints. Everything from boiled vegetables to beef is welcome, provided cooked good. Unable to finish something on dinner table, please do not waste it and pass it on. As my roomies put it my appetite is like a mini black hole, both in terms of acceptance and amount.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Snugly: </b>Ever seen a bunch of piglets sleeping?? A dozen of them will bunch together and sleep cosily over each other. Going back in time, when we just moved to CTM<sup>1</sup> four years back and we all gathered in Sas’ room for some movie, the sight had uncanny resemblance. <span style=""> </span>It was one teeny-weeny bed and we were at least 8 on it. And man it was fun to watch movie like that. No PVR, no I-Nox gave me that much of fun.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now this is not a tag, but everyone is tagged:D</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">P.S. Plz don’t hate me for this. Facts are exaggerated to certain extent to create interest in readers:D</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">1 CTM : C TOP MID, my wing at iit. Call me braggart, but this is where Gods live.</p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-70790557200641652802007-07-11T07:00:00.001-07:002008-06-22T05:25:17.501-07:00Fight Club : The Return of Hobbes<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="metacaph">I</span>n the film<i> Fight Club</i>, the real name of the protagonist (Ed Norton’s character) is never revealed. Many believe the reason behind this anonymity is to give "Jack" more of an <i>everyman</i> quality. Do not be deceived. "Jack" is really Calvin from the comic strip <i>Calvin and Hobbes</i>. It’s true. Norton portrays the grown-up version of Calvin, while Brad Pitt plays his imaginary pal, Hobbes, reincarnated as Tyler Durden. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;"> Part I: The Hobbes-Tyler Connection</h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Picture this: a hyper, self-absorbed child initially concocts an imaginary friend as the ideal playmate, to whom more realistic qualities soon become attributed. This phantasm becomes a completely separate personality, with his own likes, dislikes, and temperament—and the imaginer and the imagined clash and argue constantly, though remaining fast friends. This pattern continues to the point where the child begins to perceive what was originally mere fantasy to be <i>reality</i>.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> Just as Calvin has an imaginary jungle-animal friend named Hobbes, whom everyone else believes to be nothing but a stuffed toy, "Jack" in <i>Fight Club</i> has an imaginary cool-guy friend named Tyler, whom no one but Jack can see. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"> In both cases, the entity that began as the ideal companion soon took on a more realistic, three-dimensional quality. In other words, they became <em>real</em>. This is evident in that both Hobbes and Tyler also began to function as scapegoats for their creators. For instance, consider that Calvin often blames broken lamps and other assorted household mischief on Hobbes, and that Jack is inclined to believe that Fight Club and other various anti-society mischief is brought about by Tyler, not himself. Calvin claims Hobbes pounces on him every day after school; Jack believes Tyler beats him up next to 40 kilotons of nitroglycerin in a parking garage—the list goes on and on. The relationships between the two sets of friends are the exact same. Is this mere coincidence? </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="300"> <tbody><tr> <td> <div align="center"><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo2.jpg" alt="Hobbes" height="100" width="103" /><br /> <span class="caption"><br /> "There are <em>eight</em> rules of Fight Club."<br /> </span></div></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Filling in the time-gap between Calvin and Jack, we can imagine the story as something like this: Once Calvin reaches the hostile environment known as the seventh grade, the constant teasing from the other students and the frustrated concern of his parents finally becomes too much, and a reluctant, disillusioned Calvin is finally forced to grow up, or at least begin to. This decision is sealed by one of the hardest things young Calvin will ever have to do in his life: un-imagine Hobbes, an act which to Calvin is essentially no different from murder. After being Calvin’s best friend for over a decade, Hobbes is packed away in a box, or tossed carelessly into a garbage bag, perhaps even stuffed under the same bed that once contained so many monsters. This is all, of course, very painful for Calvin, so much so that he represses it all in shame. Little does Calvin suspect that while he is busy growing up, deciding what "dinette set defines him as a person," Hobbes is also maturing in the recesses of his mind, waiting to be unleashed at an appropriate time.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> It’s worth noting that during these twenty or so years, Hobbes never bears a grudge against Calvin nor wishes any ill upon him. Hobbes, remembering the depth of their past friendship, does not hate Calvin but rather hates the society that <em>made</em> Calvin put him away. Hobbes, residing in Calvin’s mind, sees and experiences all that Calvin does—and truly despises all of it. He witnesses a bright, superbly imaginative kid (with a genius-level vocabulary) reduced to nothing more than another nameless cog. Fighting off the tears wept for his conventionalized pal, Hobbes resolves to set Calvin free, paying special attention when Calvin idly looks up homemade-napalm recipes on the Internet.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> Flash forward to the timeframe depicted in <i>Fight Club</i>. Calvin/Jack has reached an all-time low. He has done everything society has told him to do but is completely void of happiness. Hobbes, newly adjusted as "Tyler Durden" (after all, grown-up Calvin would no longer accept a jungle animal walking, talking, and eating canned tuna), re-enters Calvin/Jack’s life, determined to show Calvin everything he’s done wrong, whether he likes it or not.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="150"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo13.jpg" alt="Hobbes and the transmogrified Calvin" height="145" width="104" /></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Tyler to Jack: "I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I’m smart, capable, and most importantly, I’m free in all the ways you wish you could be."</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;"> Calvin has always idolized Hobbes. In <em>Weirdos From Another Planet</em>, he dresses up like a tiger and attempts to live in the woods. Like Hobbes, Tyler is cool, collected, and incredibly cerebral. Given this evidence, one can conclude that Tyler is Hobbes, reincarnated after being trapped inside Calvin/Jack’s brain for so many years. Just as Calvin is Jack, Hobbes <i>is </i>Tyler. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;">Part II: Marla Singer—Avatar of Susie Derkins?</h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;"> Somewhere between the end of high school and beginning of college, uptight, grade-obsessed Susie Derkins lost her way. The pressure to get good grades, the pressure to succeed, simply became too much for her, and she snapped. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="300"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td align="left"><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo5.gif" alt="Marla ponders her previous life as Susie Derkins" height="252" width="278" /><p> <span class="caption">Marla remembers the girl she used to be.<br /> </span></p></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;"> Free from the protective bonds of her parents’ guidance and the bland safety of her suburban home, Susie loses her moral bearings entirely and sinks into a dark, seamy, grim world of sex, drugs, and eccentric Albert-Einstein-like hair. Her transformation is so complete that she no longer even remotely resembles the upright citizen that her parents and society wanted her to be: thus, she changes her name. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"> Like Calvin, Susie has become a misfit, one of society’s lost lambs. It is for this reason that she soon finds herself frequenting support groups such as "Remaining Men Together." Fate has brought her back to Calvin, whom she probably spurned back in junior high. But the two have changed so much that they no longer recognize each other!</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> The pink dress Marla wears in one scene slightly resembles something that "Binky Betsy," Susie’s favorite childhood doll, once wore: the doll that Calvin stole and attempted to ransom. While Calvin and Susie mostly teased and tortured each other, <em>Hobbes</em> was infatuated with the raven-haired beauty. Accordingly, Jack despises Marla, whereas Tyler takes an *ahem* sort of interest in her (definitely inappropriate for the Sunday Funnies).</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> When we are first introduced to Marla, she is but a tumor on Jack’s slowly deteriorating world. She is disenfranchised, morbid, socially apathetic—and Jack despises her because she is a mirror image of himself, his own female double. On the other hand, Calvin hates Susie because she is his exact opposite: Bright, obedient, demure—the unruly Calvin has every reason to hate her. However, certain strips definitely infer that Calvin has somewhat of a crush on Susie, and some even imply that Susie shares these latent feelings. But as a cootie-fearing grade-schooler, Calvin may only express these strange feelings through attention-getting antagonisms such as constant snowballs to the head, ransoming her dolls—<em>and</em> through his separate, conveniently more mature other personality—Hobbes. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"> Unlike Calvin, Hobbes has never been bashful about showing his affection for Susie. Calvin’s imaginary tiger-friend has called her a "cutie," worn swim jams to impress her ("Girls flip for guys in jams"), and even claimed he would betray their club’s secret code if she gave him a tummy rub (which is one of the key differences between Tyler and Hobbes). Naturally, all of this confuses and frustrates Calvin beyond words, even though Hobbes is really nothing more than a product of his own mind! And though Hobbes and Susie never consummated their love for each other (he’s a stuffed tiger and she’s a kid, you sicko!) this is, of course, the <em>exact</em> same deranged love-triangle that is shared between Jack, Tyler, and Marla, or at least a natural progression thereof. Perhaps Marla puts up with Jack/Tyler’s apparent nonsense for so long, because it’s the sort of thing she became used to as a child? And perhaps, in the end, Jack finds solace in Marla because it’s the exact same connection he should’ve made long ago, in his suburban youth. A connection that may have saved them both. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;">Part III: GROSS—Precursor of Fight Club<br /> </h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" height="350" width="300"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td align="left"> <div align="right"><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo6.jpg" alt="Hobbes in a tree sneering at Calvin" height="285" width="219" /><p> <span class="caption">In a scene eerily reminiscent of Fight Club, Hobbes blithely informs a sulking Calvin that he decides his own level of involvement in G.R.O.S.S. </span></p></div></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">When you boil it down, the Fight Club that Jack and Tyler start is really just an odd sort of boys’ club—no ovaries allowed—where men can be men, and the so-called stronger of the sexes can take solace in the fact that, even in our politically correct times, some exclusivities of manhood still remain. (As a side note, imagine how much more controversy the movie would have generated if it involved scenes of men fighting women on equal ground!) </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">And clubs like this, of course, have their beginnings in backyards, tree houses, and garages all over America. Not surprisingly, Calvin started such a club when he was six years old. Little did anyone realize that he would construct another one much later in his life, again with the aid of an imaginary friend. For just as Calvin, Hobbes, and Susie have dark future versions in Jack, Tyler, and Marla respectively, G.R.O.S.S. (<b>G</b>et <b>R</b>id <b>O</b>f <b>S</b>limy girl<b>S</b>) has the same in Fight Club. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;"> G.R.O.S.S. shares the following characteristics with Fight Club:</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><ul style="text-align: justify;"><li>Both have catchy names (although the "slimy" part of G.R.O.S.S. is redundant, otherwise it doesn’t spell anything).</li><li> <table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="200"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td> <div align="right"><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo7.jpg" alt="Calvin and Hobbes fight club" height="147" width="149" /></div></td> </tr> </tbody></table> Both are co-run by a friendless male and his imaginary companion (Calvin is Tyrant and Dictator-for-Life; Hobbes is President and First Tiger). </li><li>Both are exclusively male organizations, although Fight Club’s membership is considerably larger. </li><li> Along with that, all members of both organizations are very loyal.</li><li> The leaders of both organizations constantly engage in fisticuffs (but only in G.R.O.S.S. does a member receive a demerit for biting). </li><li> And in said fights, in both organizations, there is only one fight at a time! </li><li> Both are supposedly very secretive (though Jack never tells his mother about Fight Club). </li><li> At least one leader of both organizations is fond of giving speeches (though Calvin never uses the term "space monkey"). </li></ul><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;"> G.R.O.S.S. and Fight Club both wreak havoc on their respective neighborhoods (G.R.O.S.S.’s target is considerably more focused, i.e., Susie). Clearly, the roots of Fight Club can be seen in G.R.O.S.S. Calvin shows his penchant for such male-oriented, destructive organizations. Also, just like cardboard-box-time-machines and water-gun-transmogrifiers, G.R.O.S.S. was likely created as an escape, a release—as, of course, was Fight Club. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;">Part IV: Moe Develops Karmic Bitch-Tits </h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="325"> <tbody><tr> <td width="350"><div align="right"><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo8.jpg" alt="Jack and Moe/Robert Paulson" height="200" width="299" /><br /> <span class="caption"><br /> Moe secretly seeks atonement for past sins.</span><br /> </div></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Robert "Moe" Paulson, Calvin’s grade-school bully, becomes a six-time weight-lifting champion, and somewhere along the line develops large man-boobs as a result of testicular cancer. This of course leads him to his support group, where he is shocked to find Calvin. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Moe greatly regrets his bullying days, but, too ashamed to reveal his true identity to Calvin, he instead offers his ample bosom for him to cry on, as a measure of retribution. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;">Part V: The Root of Evil </h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Although we’ve already learned of the fates of Hobbes, Susie, and Moe, there are a couple of other people important to Calvin that are missing. People that are even more integral to his development than (arguably) Hobbes: his parents. Mr . . . uhm . . . , and Mrs . . . uh. . . . Okay, so they don’t have names. But then again, there is no <em>need </em>to know them. Because in the comic strip, they’re not supposed to be important characters in their own right. They only matter in regards to how Calvin is directly effected by them; an effect which, by the time of the film, doesn’t seem to have been very positive. From what "Jack" mentions, he’s not exactly close to his parents, particularly his dad, on whom he seems to pin many of his problems. And this matches perfectly with the relationship depicted in the comic, as well as with what happened afterwards (in Part I). </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" height="120" width="140"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo10.jpg" alt="Calvin's Dad" align="left" height="109" width="105" /></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Calvin’s dad seems to have done quite a number on his son. As stated, it was probably at his urging that Calvin "grew up," that is, finally started to conform to society’s rules, which was the death of Hobbes. Of course, his father wasn’t without his playful side—good-naturedly teasing Calvin at every opportunity—but perhaps this is why "Jack" resents him so much. Maybe after Jack reached the end of his dutiful journey, only to find emptiness, he thought back to the day his father told him that the sun sets down somewhere in Arizona every night. "Maybe," thought Calvin, "maybe ALL of it’s been just another one of Dad’s cruel jokes."</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> In the "bathtub" scene of <i>Fight Club</i>, "Jack" and Tyler discuss their woeful parents. In this scene, crucial information is revealed, as well as some inconsistencies. "Jack" claims his father left when he was six, an age when Calvin’s dad was obviously still around, but this statement is contradicted soon after, when Tyler mentions his own dad telling him to get married when he was thirty, to which "Jack" responds, "mine said that <em>too</em>." The self-pitying "Jack" is most likely seeking to garner additional sympathy from his newfound friend by making his childhood sound worse than it actually was. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="125"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td> <div align="center"><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo9.jpg" alt="Hobbes scheming" height="144" width="93" /></div></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">But even more interesting is Tyler’s hostility towards his father: when "Jack" asks him who he would fight, if he could fight anyone, he answers, "I’d fight my father." But, since Tyler is only a figment of Jack’s imagination, we can only assume he’s referring to <em>Jack’s</em> father. And while this hatred would only make sense given that the two are sharing the same brain, why is it that Tyler seems to hate Jack’s father even more vividly than "Jack" himself does? Maybe it’s because Tyler hasn’t forgotten who’s ultimately responsible for the un-imagining that took place years before . . . maybe he’s still not too happy about it . . . and maybe he’s got some pretty good ideas for revenge.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">The role of Calvin’s father in all of this is no small one. Other than to "save" Calvin, it’s entirely possible that Tyler’s real motivation for taking down civilization is simply to get back at Calvin’s father. For by destroying the society that forced Calvin into repressing Hobbes, he’s also destroying the society that Calvin’s father, after all, epitomizes. And this of course allows Hobbes an indirect measure of revenge. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;">Part VI: Calvin—"I Am Jack’s Lost Youth" </h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="75"> <tbody><tr align="center"> <td> <img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo11.jpg" alt="Calvin-Jack" height="68" width="66" /></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Although the personality differences between Calvin in the comic strip and Calvin in the movie are pretty large, it can be explained as easily as taking Id and introducing him to Superego ("Jack" actually seems to have sort of a Super-Superego). Nearly all people go through the same thing when first confronted with the crushing grind of reality. But, as they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall—and in terms of imagination and dreams, Calvin was a giant.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> Still, it’s not as though common traits between Calvin-Calvin and Jack-Calvin can’t be identified at all. Besides a preference for imaginary friends over real ones, and an inability to express affection for girls, Calvin has never done well when forced to play by any sort of rules. Take, for instance, his utter inability in any sort of organized sport, compared to his unbridled joy while playing the make-it-up-as-you-go-along "Calvinball." Furthermore, even at age 6 Calvin never exactly thrived in stifling, authoritarian establishments (i.e., school), and he’s always had clashes with authority figures since the strip began (his parents, the doctor, his teacher, Rosalyn)—which actually may have initially planted the seeds for Tyler. Beyond that, his excellent vocabulary and way with words are still with him in the voice-over narration of <i>Fight Club</i>, and his rampant materialism that started with mail-order propeller-beanies ends with yin-yang shaped tables. As for the differences, they can be credited to the demoralizing effect of reality.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="250"> <tbody><tr align="center" valign="top"> <td><img src="http://www.metaphilm.com/images/philms/fightclub_photo12.jpg" alt="Calvin-Jack in the mirror" align="right" height="225" width="221" /> <span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;" > </span></td> </tr> </tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;">In the end, Calvin’s involvement with Fight Club and return of Hobbes can be boiled down to two words: "Personal Responsibility." For although Fight Club and Project Mayhem were both mostly Tyler’s doing, by the end of the movie, Jack readily accepts his own part of the blame, as Tyler is his creation. And by doing so, he also accepts responsibility for the undesirable condition of his own <em>life</em>—his father may have pushed him, but Calvin himself was the one who chose to obey. It is through this newfound self-accountability that Calvin/Jack is able to take control of his own life at last. As skyscrapers flash and crumble in the background, and blood oozes from the bullet hole in his head, Calvin says that he is "okay." And we are apt to believe him.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;"> Part VII: Conclusion</h3><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;"> Calvin’s world in the comic strip is pure, romanticized idealism, whereas in the movie, he lives in gray, bleak reality. Within the safety of the panel, Calvin is perpetually six years old, terrible things can never happen, and no matter how crazy a stunt he pulls, everything always returns to status quo. Because of this, our hero is free to do as he wishes, free to chase his dreams as wildly as he desires, never having to worry about tomorrow because there essentially will never <em>be</em> one—unless it’s part of a continuing storyline. This makes the reality of <i>Fight Club</i> all the bleaker, because it depicts what happens when you take someone weaned on dreams and limitless possibilities and jam him into a cramped cage confined by rules and regulations. It probably only took poor Calvin a few years in the adult world (or growing-up world) to fully make the sad change. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"> This transition from gleeful Calvin to dull "Jack" is not uncommon. Little Nemo became a banker, Peter Pan became a lawyer, and Garfield was caught and butchered by the chef of a Chinese restaurant. (One exception is Charlie Brown, who from all indications was mentally middle-aged at the time of his birth.) </p><p style="text-align: justify;"> The moral of the story is that reality bites, kiddies. Calvin and Hobbes in <i>Fight Club</i> are proof of this sad, sad truth.</p><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><br />p.s. i copied this article from <a href="http://www.metaphilm.com/philm.php?id=29_0_2_0">this</a> link. an amazing read.~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-90256820539884006932007-06-19T22:22:00.010-07:002007-12-18T14:52:06.906-08:00the gadget boysorry guys for not being regular on blog. was busy shopping. :D and now i m the gadget boy of the town. bought a new lappy vaio c25 (upgraded RAM) and a new cell MOTOROKR. yeah baby !! wow is my word.<br /><br />vaio c25<br /><br />its espresso black and chocolate brown in colour.<br />intel core 2 duo 1.66Ghz<br />2 GB ddr2 RAM (667 MHz)<br />nVIDIA GeForce GO 7400 GPU<br />80 GB SATA hard disk (5400 RPM)<br />Windows Vista Home Premium<br /><br />i'm in love wid this black beauty. :). for more details chk this <a href="http://www.cnetasia.org/reviews/notebooks/0,39050493,40176064p,00.htm">link</a>.<br /><br />MOTOROKR<br /><br />awesome awesome fone.<br /><br />Premium entertainment PDA at only 14.5 millimeters thick<br />2-megapixel CMOS camera with 8x digital zoom to capture the moment<br /> CIF and QVGA video capture for up to five hours<br />Full screen video playback<br /> Integrated MP3 player with dedicated music keys and built-in FM radio<br />PDA featuring Business Card Reader, POP3 e-mail¹, document viewer to view Microsoft Word, Excel, etc., PIM<br />Connectivity includes integrated stereo Bluetooth® wireless technology³, HTML browser, hi-speed USB 2.0 EMU, 3.5 millimeter stereo jack<br />Removable memory card slot,1GB full SD card ; 8MB dynamic user memory4<br />Extended 1000mAh battery life for long usability<br />Brilliant 2.4-inch 240 x 320, 262K colors TFT external display with the latest touch screen technology.<br /><br />for more details. check this <a href="http://www.motorola.com/motoinfo/product/details.jsp?globalObjectId=175">link</a>.<br /><br />p.s. i luv flaunting :D~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-47950092482639052042007-06-08T02:09:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:41:34.527-08:00LITBM : on the radio<p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Just imagine sitting in traffic on your way to work and hearing this.</span></tt><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><br /><br /><tt>Many </tt></span><st1:city><st1:place><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Chicago</span></tt></st1:place></st1:City><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> folks DID hear this on the WBAM FM morning show in </span></tt><st1:city><st1:place><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Chicago</span></tt></st1:place></st1:City><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">. The DJs play a game where they award winners great prizes. The game is called "Mate Match." The DJs call someone at work and ask if they are married or seriously involved with someone. If the contestant answers "yes," he or she is then asked 3 random yet highly personal questions. The person is also asked to divulge the name of their partner (with phone number) for verification. If their partner answers those same three questions correctly, they both win the prize. One particular game, however, several months ago made the City of </span></tt><st1:city><st1:place><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Big Shoulders</span></tt></st1:place></st1:City><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> drop to its knees with laughter and is possibly the funniest thing heard on air yet. Anyway, here's how it all went down:<o:p></o:p></span></tt></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></tt></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">…………………<o:p></o:p></span></tt></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></tt></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></tt></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></tt></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">DJ:"Hey! This is Edgar on WBAM. Have you ever heard of 'MateMatch'?"</span></tt><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><br /><tt>Contestant: (laughing) "Yes, I have."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Great! Then you know we're giving away a trip to </tt></span><st1:place><st1:city><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Orlando</span></tt></st1:City><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">, </span></tt><st1:state><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Florida</span></tt></st1:State></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><tt>if you win. What is your name? First only please." </tt><br /><br /><tt>Contestant: "Brian."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Brian, are you married or what?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "Yes."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Yes? Does that mean you're married or you're what?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: (laughing nervously) "Yes, I am married."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Thank you. Now, what is your wife's name? First only please."</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "Sara."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Is Sara at work, Brian?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "She is gonna kill me."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Stay with me here, Brian! Is she at work?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: (laughing) "Yes, she's at work."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Okay, first question - when was the last time you had sex?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "She is gonna kill me."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Brian! Stay with me here!" </tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "About </tt></span><st1:time minute="0" hour="8"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">8 o'clock</span></tt></st1:time><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> this morning."</span></tt><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Atta boy, Brian."</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: (laughing sheepishly) "Well..."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Question #2 - How long did it last?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "About 10 minutes."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Wow! You really want that trip, huh? No one would ever have said</tt><br /><tt>that if a trip wasn't at stake."</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "Yeah, that trip sure would be nice."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Okay. Final question. Where did you have sex at </tt></span><st1:time minute="0" hour="8"><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">8 o'clock</span></tt></st1:time><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> this</span></tt><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><tt>morning?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: (laughing hard) "I, ummm, I, well..."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "This sounds good, Brian. Where was it?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "Not that it was all that great, but her mom is staying with us</tt><br /><tt>for a couple of weeks..."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Uh huh..."</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "...and the Mother-In-Law was in the shower at the time."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Atta boy, Brian."</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "On the kitchen table."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Not that great?? That is more adventure than the previous hundred</tt><br /><tt>times</tt> <tt>I've done it. Okay folks, I will put Brian on hold, get this wife's work number and call her up. You listen to this."</tt><br /><br /><tt>3 minutes of commercials follow.</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Okay audience, let's call Sarah, shall we?" (touch</tt><br /><tt>tones.....ringing....)</tt><br /><br /><tt>Clerk: "Kinkos."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Hey, is Sarah around there somewhere?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Clerk: "This is she."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Sarah, this is Edgar with WBAM. We are live on the air right now</tt><br /><tt>and I've been talking with Brian for a couple of hours now."</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: (laughing) "A couple of hours?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Well, a while now. He is on the line with us.</tt> <tt>Brian knows not to give any answers away or you'll lose. Sooooooo...</tt><br /><tt>do you know the rules of 'MateMatch'?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "No."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Good!"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: (laughing) <o:p></o:p></tt></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><tt>Sarah: (laughing) "Brian, what the hell are you up to?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian (laughing) "Just answer his questions honestly,okay? Be completely</tt> <tt>honest."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Yeah yeah yeah. Sure. Now, I will ask you 3 questions, Sarah. If</tt><br /><tt>your</tt> <tt>answers match Brian's answers, then the both of you will be off to </tt></span><st1:place><st1:city><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Orlando</span></tt></st1:City><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">, </span></tt><st1:state><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Florida</span></tt></st1:State></st1:place><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> for 5 days on us. Disney World. Sea World. Tickets to</span></tt><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><tt>the Magic's game. The whole deal. Get it Sarah?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Alright. When did you last have sex, Sarah?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "Oh God, Brian....uh, this morning before Brian went to work."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "What time?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "Around 8 this morning."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Very good. Next question. How long did it last?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "12, 15 minutes maybe."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Hmmmm. That's close enough. I am sure she is trying to protect his</tt><br /><tt>manhood. We've got one last question,Sarah. You are one question away from a trip to </tt></span><st1:state><st1:place><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Florida</span></tt></st1:place></st1:State><tt><span style="font-size: 10pt;">. Are you ready?"</span></tt><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "Where did you have it?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "OH MY GOD, BRIAN!! You didn't tell them that,did you?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Brian: "Just tell him, honey."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: "What is bothering you so much, Sarah?"</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "Well, it's just that my mom is vacationing with us and..."</tt><br /><br /><tt>DJ: Come on Sarah.....where did you have it?</tt><br /><br /><tt>Sarah: "well....errr......In the ass....."</tt><br /><br /><tt>After a long pause, the DJ said, "Folks, we need to take a station</tt><br /><tt>break"</tt><o:p></o:p></span></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-1344035720417928992007-06-03T02:06:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:53:01.457-08:00another tag<p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="">10 </span>facts/habits about me. <o:p>saw this on <a href="http://chocomumbojumbo.blogspot.com/">priya's</a> blog :) </o:p></span>trust me its not that easy to write it down.<o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">1 Fact: I don’t drink alcohol, tea. Drink coffee, cold-drink for company. Love to drink lassi, nimbu-paani.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">2 Habit: I play with my ears while sleeping.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">3 Fact: I can move little finger of my feet. *without any external help, of course*<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span lang="FR" style="font-family:Arial;">4 Habit: I’m a compulsive foodie.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">5 Fact: I’m scared of kids.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">6 Habit: While reading, thinking or writing about something, I lie down and move my legs vigorously.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">7 Fact: After my second year, I saw more than 125 different movies in less than a month. * wakawwww!!*</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">8 Habit: I dont tie my shoe laces, except for when i am playing<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">9 Fact: I</span><span style="font-family:Arial;"> am a champ procastinator. Deadlines are just dates for me.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">10 Habit: I need to take some part of my leg out of blanket while sleeping, even if its biting cold.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br />i dont know why i am thrilled, but i am. btw everyone is tagged :)<br /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-9417196839166570092007-06-02T22:41:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:53:01.458-08:0020 tag<p class="MsoNormal" style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">1.Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it?<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">on my left arm, just below my shoulder. i was trying to skid my cycle and for smartass the i am, i pressed front brakes. then “jack and jill” happened and i landed up in barbed fencing. hence the souvenier.<br /><br /><i style="">2. What is on the walls in your room?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">seriously nothing, as my land lord is a big pain in, u know where. but in my room, i used to have one huge poster of kurt cobain and sonali bendre.<br /><br /><i style="">3. What does your phone look like?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It’s a gone case. was silver, but now its paint is coming out from all the places.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="" face="arial"><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">4. What music do you listen to?<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="" face="arial"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Heavy metal and ghazals/classical. <i style="">*i know i am weird*</i><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="" face="arial"><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">5. What is your current desktop picture?<o:p></o:p></span></i><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">its a foto from our kerala trip..awesome.<br /><br /><i style="">6. What do you want more than anything right now?</i><br /><br />want to pee. trying to see how long can i hold it and ryt now cant think of anything else. been 18.5 hrs.<i style="">*i told ya, i’m weird*</i><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="" face="arial"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /><i style="">7. Do you believe in gay marriage?<o:p></o:p></i></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="" face="arial"><span style="font-family: Arial;">ofcourse. what is the problem. they anyways do the same thing ;)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /><i style="">8. What time were you born?<o:p></o:p></i></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">dunno and dun care<br /><br /><i style="">9. Are your parents still together?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">pretty much, even after all those fights :D<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">10. What are you listening to?<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">some movie sound in the background. </span><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="SV">*sale ghode, awaaz kam kar*</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="SV"><br /><br /><i style="">11. </i></span><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">What's something people may not know about you?</span></i><u1:p></u1:p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">that i dont booze. <i style="">*i know its hard to believe, but i dont*</i><br /><br /><i style="">12. The last person to make you cry?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">i cant recall, seriously.<br /><br /><i style="">13. What is your favourite perfume/cologne?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">not too fond of them, but i use el-paso.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">14. What kind of hair/eye color do you like on the opposite sex?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /><br />eyes does not matter much. i like long black hair, and tall girls.<br /><br /><i style="">15. Do you like pain killers?<br /></i><br />never had one in my life. <i style="">*another thing that ppl may not know about me* :P</i><br /><br /><i style="">16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?<o:p></o:p></i></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Depends, cant ask a random girl out.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">17. Favourite pizza topping?</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /><br />Loads of capsicum/jalapenos or pineapple.<br /><br /><i style="">18. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">i want subway veggie delight and i want it now. <i style="">*alas !! not a single soul moved by my gesture*<br /></i><br /><i style="">19. Who was the last person you made mad?<o:p></o:p></i></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">S..last evening itself. poor girl. she thinks i am a casanova. <i style="">*compliment taken*</i><br /><br /><i style="">20. Is anyone in love with you?</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-family: Arial;">even i want to know. tell me girls, for i wud never know if you wont tell. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-89449144874626158192007-05-30T00:50:00.003-07:002007-12-18T14:53:51.684-08:00i'm a monster :(<p class="MsoNormal"><font style=""></font>Ok I confess!! I am bad with kids. Bad as in real bad. Most of them would plainly refuse to come to me and if sometimes someone comes to me by mistake, the interaction is sure to end up in a saline free flow. For the clarification, by kids I mean teeny-weeny kiddo who needs to be baby talked and who can’t drink milk from glass (ok as it is a confession, I accept, for kids less than 4 years I’m devil personified). Few days back I was at my uncle’s place for 3 days and my kid cousin refused to talk to me. Poor guy started crying every time I tried to hold him. And I sat contemplating and I came up with possible reasons (I know this blog is turning out to be extremely stupid, but whatever!! My kid bro is afraid of me and didn’t talk to me at all. I’m sad)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font style="">1)<font style="" face=""" size="7"> </font></font><!--[endif]-->My size/voice: With my 185cm+ and 90kgs+ built I’m like Gulliver for the Lilliputian kids. And for the lazy bastard I am I refuse to shave daily (ok it’s a weekly thing for me) and I get scarier everyday. And my loud voice does the remaining damage to my reputation. I’m like a living monster. I’m like one of those fantasy devils which moms use to scare kids. But then this part is not under my control. Genetic faults, I would say.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font style="">2)<font style="" face=""" size="7"> </font></font><!--[endif]-->Cant baby-talk: I claim to be very creative and a blabber-mouth. But when it comes to kids, I can’t talk for more than a second. I’ve realized that my monologue skills are directly proportional to size of the person.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font style="">3)<font style="" face=""" size="7"> </font></font><!--[endif]-->Scared of kids: As embarrassed I am to accept it, it is a fact. I’m extremely scared of them especially when they curl in my arms. I think they are fragile and I’ll end up doing some harm. And even more than that, I can’t see a kid crying. My aunt kept on saying, let him cry for a minute but take him out and he will become ok. But no thank-you!! I’m scared of crying babies.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I guess I have to wait for another 3 years before I could properly talk to my bro. But only saving grace is my kid sis who found her new best friend in me. Yaaayyy!! We had so much fun together. And my entire family was, OMG!! A kid with bi2. It’s worth a foto. :D</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">p.s. happy first birthday Yash!! Love you bro. :)<br /></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-57396556430256523512007-05-22T01:15:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:52:06.907-08:00the reunion :)<p class="MsoNormal">19<sup>th</sup> may 2k7 was one of the most memorable day of my life. It was the class reunion of <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">St Paul</st1:city></st1:place>’s 2k1 batch. To be honest, it was more fun than the farewell. I met lots of junta after 8-10 years. The excitement was inevitable, but the degree of proximity was surprising yet extremely comforting.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The whole planning started about a month ago. The core organizers were Ritesh (mama), Shweta, Suchit (t2), Pritesh, Rohit, Saurabh (papa) and me (yours very own Lord Anshul). As most of them were into business and all in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ujjain</st1:place></st1:city> itself, we thought it would be much better to settle the event at our very own hometown. After a lot of thought 19<sup>th</sup> may was decided as the D-day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I reached <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ujjain</st1:place></st1:city> on 14<sup>th</sup>, and then started series of meetings. All the old class fotos were dug out, the list was formulated and the exhausting process of reviving contacts was started. Everyone got busy, and cell became more important than ever. At the same time other plans were to be decided. All of us succumbed to the conjuring whims of “lady nostalgia”. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For the first time something on such a large scale was happening, and me and mama were in no mood to screw it up. Few other futile attempts of such sort ended up in a disaster. Everyone was foned and mama and I made sure that we would personally try and meet as many of them as possible. Rohit was given responsibility to contact and meet people in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Indore</st1:place></st1:city>. And others in <st1:city st="on">Bombay</st1:city>, <st1:city st="on">Delhi</st1:city>, Pune and <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city> were called up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T2 was responsible for hotel booking. With all his contacts in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ujjain</st1:place></st1:city>, no one else was more suitable. And that guy did a brilliant work too. He got us “<st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Shanti</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Palace</st1:placetype></st1:place>”, which when we contacted was not free that day. Our hero spent a “high-spirit” evening with the GM of the hotel and we got a booking: D. We asked him to make sure that it is banquet hall and he said us we will get whatever we want. Brilliant!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Food was decided by Pritesh and Papa. The program was scheduled from 5 to 10 and this made 2 courses a must. And being in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Ujjain</st1:city></st1:place> I had to settle for veg only<span style="font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="">L</span></span>. No regrets!! Culinary options were secondary for me that day. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mama and I then started looking for a decent memento. The whole idea was to have an event so grand that all “oh-I-am-so-busy” souls should feel that they have missed something significant and if something of this sort happens after another 5 years than we could expect almost 100% attendance. The memento was decided and the order was placed for 30 pieces. (Thanks a ton Mohammad for all the help).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A lot of other plans were fashioned and defashioned. We were planning to call teachers but finally decided against it and thought let this be strictly our batch’ event. Then we planned to give few informal awards (“the geek”, “most notorious”, “laugh riot”), but then got scared of puny disputes that might arise. Then we planned to arrange some skit or some little program, but lack of time held us back. We finally settled for a brief introduction of what happened in life after leaving school and little free-lance dancing:P </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Digicams, handycams and lappys were arranged. Hotel guy was asked to arrange for music system and amplifiers.<span style=""> </span>So far so good. Then again life has never been so kind on us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Till 19<sup>th</sup> morning everything was going so peacefully that it just didn’t make sense and I was waiting for some screw up. And it came from memento guy. He said that there was some problem with the print of memento and he has to re-do entire thing. I almost erupted “Mr. Mehta!! I am about to sign your death warrant. I want everything ready by 5 sharp, or I’ll hang you by your neck” and slammed the fone. Still the condition was under control.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyways we consolidated entire stuff and reached the hotel by 4:45. Abhinav and I reached there to ensure the arrangements. But surprise surprise!!. Everything could not have rolled so smoothly. Those idiots were confused and thought the entire event was supposed to start at 7 and in lawn. I could feel mercury rising in my veins. I barked at them to finish the entire thing by 5:30. I called up t2 by that time. “Seth” t2 was fuming and almost fought with the manager. But it was so late to do anything that we had to settle with whatever was being given to us.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Junta started to come by 5:30 and but only in ones and twos. I was like lol!! No one here understands the meaning of punctuality:P Major chunk came around 7. I am usually hyper for no reason, but that time I was visibly hysterical. And by 7:30 most of them were there, thought few ditched at last moment and didn’t show up. We anyways realized that weather became super sexy and lawn was very soothing. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We than started a mini intro round where everyone told what they have been up to after leaving school. And I realize I guess my class had one of the most diverse set of students. Only thing missing was probably an IAS and someone in police. We had everything else. Engineers, Doctors, Politicians, Lawyers, Artists and everything (it includes a guy with criminal record as well) :P</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then next 3 hours were the best time of my life. We all laughed, shouted, gossiped and danced. It never felt so good. Anecdotes were floating in the air and I can’t recall a teacher who was not mocked. Few got married and few engaged, and we were listening to their love stories. Time flew faster than ever. Me and J hugged and consolidated when we heard that P got married: D. Then came time for a group foto. It was more beautiful than any other foto I have ever seen.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We all parted with a promise to do the same again in another 3 years. But that time on even magnificent scale and with even more junta. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While coming back, I collected my memento, dropped R at her home and turned back to home. I ran in and called pa, ma and dids and told them everything. Phew!! Finally after 5 hours my lips were released from the continuous stretch and I crashed into bed.</p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-83770245284229863492007-05-11T02:36:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:41:34.528-08:00LITBM : the adventures of bloodninja<p class="MsoNormal">statutory warning : Explicit content. Proceed at your own peril. Author wont be responsible if this post hurts feelings or offends anyone. Only fun intended.<br /><br /><br />sweet17: Hi<br />bloodninja: hello<br />bloodninja: who is this?<br />sweet17: just a someone?<br />bloodninja: A someone I know?<br />sweet17: nope<br />bloodninja: Then why the hell are you bothering me?<br />sweet17: well sorrrrrry<br />sweet17: I just wanted to chat with you<br />bloodninja: why?<br />sweet17: nevermind your an jerk<br />bloodninja: Hey wait a minute<br />sweet17: yes?<br />bloodninja: look I’m sorry. I’m just a little paranoid<br />sweet17: paranoid?<br />bloodninja: yes<br />sweet17: of what?<br />sweet17: me?<br />bloodninja: No. I’m in hiding.<br />sweet17: LOL<br />bloodninja: Don’t fucking laugh at me!<br />bloodninja: This shit is serious!<br />sweet17: What are you hiding from?<br />bloodninja: The cops.<br />sweet17: gimme a fucking break<br />bloodninja: I’m serious.<br />sweet17: I don’t get it<br />bloodninja: The cops are after me.<br />sweet17: For what?<script> <!-- D(["mb","\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: I’m wanted in three states\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: For???\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: It’s kindof embarrasing.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: I had sex with a turkey.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Hello?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: You are fucking sick.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Send me your picture.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: why?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: so I know you aren’t one of them.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: One of what?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: The cops.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I’m not a cop i told you\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Then send me your picture.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: hold on\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Hurry up.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Are you there?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: fuck you, cop!\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: Hey sorry\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I had to do something for my mom.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: I thought you were trying to find a picture to send to me.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: When really you were notifying the authorities.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Weren’t you!?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: thats not it\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Then what?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I don’t want to send you the picture cause I’m not pretty\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Most cops aren’t\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: IM NOT A FUCKING COP YOU DICKSHIT!\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Then send me the picture.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>",1] ); //--> </script><br />bloodninja: I’m wanted in three states<br />sweet17: For???<br />bloodninja: It’s kindof embarrasing.<br />bloodninja: I had sex with a turkey.<br />bloodninja: Hello?<br />sweet17: You are fucking sick.<br />bloodninja: Send me your picture.<br />sweet17: why?<br />bloodninja: so I know you aren’t one of them.<br />sweet17: One of what?<br />bloodninja: The cops.<br />sweet17: I’m not a cop i told you<br />bloodninja: Then send me your picture.<br />sweet17: hold on<br />bloodninja: Hurry up.<br />bloodninja: Are you there?<br />bloodninja: fuck you, cop!<br />sweet17: Hey sorry<br />sweet17: I had to do something for my mom.<br />bloodninja: I thought you were trying to find a picture to send to me.<br />bloodninja: When really you were notifying the authorities.<br />bloodninja: Weren’t you!?<br />sweet17: thats not it<br />bloodninja: Then what?<br />sweet17: I don’t want to send you the picture cause I’m not pretty<br />bloodninja: Most cops aren’t<br />sweet17: IM NOT A FUCKING COP YOU DICKSHIT!<br />bloodninja: Then send me the picture.<br />sweet17: fine. What’s your e-mail?<br />bloodninja: Just send it through here.<br />sweet17: alright *PIC*<br />sweet17: Did you get it?<br />bloodninja: Hold on. I’m looking.<br />sweet17: That was me back in may<br />sweet17: I’ve lost weight since then.<br />bloodninja: I hope so<br />sweet17: what?!?<br />sweet17: that hurt my feelings.<br />bloodninja: Did it?<br />sweet17: Yes. I’m not that much smaller than that now.<br />bloodninja: Will it make you feel better if I send you my picture?<br />sweet17: yes<br />bloodninja: Alright let me find it.<br />sweet17: kks<br />bloodninja: Okay here it is. *PIC*<br />sweet17: this isn’t you.<br />bloodninja: I’ll be damned if it ain’t!<br />sweet17: You don’t look like that.<br />bloodninja: How the hell do you know?<br />sweet17: cause your profile has another picture.<br />bloodninja: The profile pic is a fake.<br />bloodninja: I use it to hide from the cops.<br />sweet17: You look like the Farm Fresh guy lol<br />bloodninja: Well, you look like you ATE the Farm Fresh guy….<br />bloodninja: Not to mention all the groceries.<br />sweet17: Go fuck yourself<br /><script> <!-- D(["mb","\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: I was going to until I saw that picture\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Now my unit won’t get hard for a week.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I shouldn’t have sent you that picture.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: You’ve done nothing but slam me.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: you hurt me.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: And calling me the Farm Fresh guy doesn’t hurt me?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I thought you were bullcrapping me!\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Why would I do that?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I can’t believe that cops are after you\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: I can’t believe Santa lets you sit on his lap..\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: FUCK YOU!!!\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: You’d break both of his legs.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: You’re a fucking wanker!\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I’ve been teased my whole life because of my weight\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: and you make fun of me when you don’t even know me\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Ok. I’m sorry.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: No you aren’t\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: You’re right. I’m not.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: HAARRRRR!\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I’m done with you\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Aww. I’m sorry.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: I’m putting you on ignore\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Wait a sec\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: We got off on the wrong foot.\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: Wanna start over?\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>sweet17: No\u003c/font\>\u003cbr\>\u003cfont style\u003d\"font-size:12pt\"\>bloodninja: I’ll eat your kitty",1] ); //--> </script>bloodninja: I was going to until I saw that picture<br />bloodninja: Now my unit won’t get hard for a week.<br />sweet17: I shouldn’t have sent you that picture.<br />sweet17: You’ve done nothing but slam me.<br />sweet17: you hurt me.<br />bloodninja: And calling me the Farm Fresh guy doesn’t hurt me?<br />sweet17: I thought you were bullcrapping me!<br />bloodninja: Why would I do that?<br />sweet17: I can’t believe that cops are after you<br />bloodninja: I can’t believe Santa lets you sit on his lap..<br />sweet17: FUCK YOU!!!<br />bloodninja: You’d break both of his legs.<br />sweet17: You’re a fucking wanker!<br />sweet17: I’ve been teased my whole life because of my weight<br />sweet17: and you make fun of me when you don’t even know me<br />bloodninja: Ok. I’m sorry.<br />sweet17: No you aren’t<br />bloodninja: You’re right. I’m not.<br />bloodninja: HAARRRRR!<br />sweet17: I’m done with you<br />bloodninja: Aww. I’m sorry.<br />sweet17: I’m putting you on ignore<br />bloodninja: Wait a sec<br />bloodninja: We got off on the wrong foot.<br />bloodninja: Wanna start over?<br />sweet17: No<br />bloodninja: I’ll eat your kitty</p> <p class="MsoNormal">sweet17: You’ll what?<br />bloodninja: You heard me.<br />bloodninja: I said I’d eat your kitty.<br />sweet17: I thought you said you couldn’t get it hard after seeing my picture<br />bloodninja: Do I need a hard-on to eat your kitty?<br />sweet17: I’d like to know that the man eating me out is excited yes<br />bloodninja: Well I’m not like most men.<br />bloodninja: I get excited in different ways.<br />sweet17: Like what?<br />bloodninja: Do you really wanna know?<br />sweet17: I don’t know<br />bloodninja: You have to tell me yes or no.<br />sweet17: I’m afraid to<br />bloodninja: Why?<br />sweet17: cause<br />bloodninja: cause why?<br />sweet17: well lets see<br />sweet17: you say you have sex with turkeys. You call me fat. then you wanna eat me out<br />sweet17: doesn’t that seem strange to you?<br />bloodninja: Nope<br />sweet17: well its strange to me<br />bloodninja: Fine. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to<br />sweet17: I didn’t say that<br />bloodninja: So is that a yes?<br />sweet17: I guess so.<br />bloodninja: Ok. I need your help getting excited though.<br />bloodninja: Are you willing?<br />sweet17: What do you need me to do?<br />bloodninja: I need you talk like a pirate.<br />sweet17: ???<br />bloodninja: When I start to go limp… you say “HARRRR!!!”<br />bloodninja: ok?<br />bloodninja: Hello?<br />sweet17: You can’t be serious<br />bloodninja: Oh yes I am!<br />bloodninja: It’s my fantasy.<br />sweet17: this is retarded<br />bloodninja: Do you want it or not?<br />sweet17: Yes I want it.<br />bloodninja: Then you’ll do it for me?<br />sweet17: sure<br />bloodninja: Ok. Here we go.<br />bloodninja: I gently remove your panties and being to massage your thighs.<br />bloodninja: You get really juicy thinking about my tounge brushing up against them<br />bloodninja: I softly begin to tounge your wet kitty.<br />bloodninja: I run my tounge up and down your smooth cunt.<br />sweet17: mmmm yeah<br />bloodninja: uh oh …going limp.<br />sweet17: Har<br />bloodninja: You gotta do better than that!<br />bloodninja: Your picture was really bad.<br />sweet17: HARRRRRRRRRRRR<br />bloodninja: Ahhhh. Much better. I feel your kitty get more moist with every stroke.<br />bloodninja: I softly suck on your clit bringing it in and out of my mouth.<br />bloodninja: Your juices run down my chin as your scent makes its way to my nose.<br />bloodninja: I begin to feel empowered by your femininity.<br />sweet17: mmmmmm you are good<br />bloodninja: I feel your thighs tighten as I fuck harder<br />bloodninja: going limp<br />sweet17: HARRRRRRR<br />bloodninja: Mmmm I grab your swelling buttocks in my hands.<br />bloodninja: You begin to sway back and forth.<br />bloodninja: going limp<br />sweet17: this is stupid<br />bloodninja: …still limp<br />bloodninja: Do it!<br />sweet17: HARRRRRRRRRRRRR<br />bloodninja: I turn you around to lick your asshole.<br />bloodninja: I pry apart that battleship you call your ass.<br />bloodninja: I see poo nuggets hanging from the hair around your ass.<br />sweet17: WTF?!?!?<br />bloodninja: They stink really bad.<br />sweet17: OMG STOP!!!<br />bloodninja: I start to get fed up with your ugly ass<br />bloodninja: I tear off your wooden peg leg.<br />bloodninja: I ram it up your ass.<br />sweet17: YOURE A FUCKING PYSCHO!!<br />bloodninja: Then I pour hot <st1:city><st1:place>carmel</st1:place></st1:city> over your head.<br />bloodninja: And turn you into a fucking candy apple…<br />bloodninja: I kick you in the face!<br />sweet17: FUCK YOU DICKHEAD!!<br />bloodninja: The celluloid from your cheeks hits the side of the cabin…<br />bloodninja: Your parrot flys away.<br />bloodninja: …going limp again.<br />bloodninja: Hello?<br />bloodninja: Say it!<br />bloodninja: HAARRRRRR!!!!!<o:p></o:p></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-44342930453186610422007-05-09T02:20:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:53:51.685-08:00Have you ever..<strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Smoked a cigarette?</span></strong> : Actively nah!! Passively oh yeah baby!! I’m a chain smoker.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Crashed a friend's car?</span></strong> : Friend’s no. but I have my uncles’: D</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Stolen a car?</span></strong> : was tempted to when I saw that amazing Porche at Leela palace, but never did.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Been in love?</span></strong> : Yup!!<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been dumped?</span></strong> : Yup :(<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Shoplifted?</span></strong> : Pro at that!! Just that we at kgp call it <b style="">“jhapna”</b><br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been in a fist fight?</span></strong> : With my size, people actually never dare to. But I still drag them into it.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Snuck out of your parent's house?</span></strong> : Nah, though I want to. But my parents are too liberal to let me have this fun.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back?</span></strong> : Not exactly.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Been arrested?</span></strong> : No, but I want to.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Gone on a blind date?</span></strong> : Yup!! :D. Trust me its fun.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Skipped school?</span></strong> : Of course I have. Count college in, and I am a self-proclaimed god.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been on a plane?</span></strong> : Duh!!<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Seen someone die?</span></strong> : Yeah. Many times.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been to </span></strong><st1:country-region><st1:place><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Canada</span></strong></st1:place></st1:country-region><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">?</span></strong> : Eh..No!!<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Purposely set a part of yourself on fire?</span></strong> : Yup. I can do weird stuff, if dared.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been jet-skiing?</span></strong> : I soooooooo want to.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Met someone in person from the Internet?</span></strong> : A lot of them. Orkut rules.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Taken pain killers?</span></strong> : Once. I loathe medicine. Prefer diet control and natural stuff.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Flown a kite?</span></strong> : You’re talking to a pro.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Built a sand castle?</span></strong> : Not really. I’m more of a mountain than a beach person.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Gone puddle jumping</span></strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">? </span>: I’m a filthy pig. Just love all this shit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Cheated while playing a game?</span></strong> : Duh!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Been lonely?</span></strong> : Rarely. But yeah, I have.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Fallen asleep at work or school/college?</span></strong> : I’m back-bencher’s pride.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Used a fake ID?</span></strong> : Yup. As a rule never play pranks from real id.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Felt an earthquake?</span></strong> : Yup. Those Bhuj earthquake tremors were felt even till <st1:city><st1:place>Ujjain</st1:place></st1:city>. I remember I was sitting in my JEE coaching classes.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Touched a snake?</span></strong> : Yeah Baby!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Slept beneath the stars?</span></strong> : Millions of times. I love sleeping with my grandparents on terrace. I still love it. I miss those “odomos” nights and my endless discussion with my grandpa.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Been robbed?</span></strong> : Obviously when you “jhapofy” something from someone, someone else will “jhapofy” something from you. Law of averages.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been misunderstood?</span></strong> : Usually not. But …</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Won a contest?</span></strong> : Yeah, Lots of them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Run a red light/stop sign?</span></strong> : He He. I’m not a responsible citizen and I’m crazy about my youth.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Been suspended from school?</span></strong> : Nope. That’s one tag missing in my mis-adventures. I nevertheless was most frequent “get-outer” of the class.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been in a car accident?</span></strong> : Yup. Banged my uncle’s car in footpath. I was a kid then.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night?</span></strong> : No. But that is one challenge I m willing to take. I dare myself.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Walked the streets drunk?</span></strong> : No. I’m one goodie goodie boy. Don’t drink. But I’m forever high; higher than my drunken friends.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Had déjàvu?</span></strong> : NO :(<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Danced in the moonlight?</span></strong> : Of course I have. I’m one shameless pathetic dancer.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Witnessed a crime?</span></strong> : Yup.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been obsessed with post-it notes?</span></strong> : Nope. If something is important I wont forget it. And if I forgot something, its not important.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Squished barefoot through the mud?</span></strong> : Yup. My mom used to drag me for these barefoot walk on grass before sunrise :(</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Been lost?</span></strong> : Nope. But ask my mom and she would say yes. Technicality of that incident is complicated and my family and me are still not able to reach a rational consensus.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Been on the opposite side of the country?</span></strong> : Not exactly.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Swum in the ocean?</span></strong> : Yup. Got a great lecture from dad after that though.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Cried yourself to sleep?</span></strong> : Nah.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Played cops and robbers?</span></strong> : Yeah.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Recently coloured with crayons?</span></strong> : Nope.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Sung karaoke?</span></strong> : Yes I have. And KJ Subz thinks I am really good. I’m shocked too: D<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Paid for a meal with only coins?</span></strong> : Yeah. Lol…a must have experience.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?</span></strong> : Of course. I’m human. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Made prank phone calls?</span></strong> : Oh I’m a champ. Have made even international calls to play my famous credit card prank.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Caught a snow flake on your tongue?</span></strong> : Yup.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Written a letter to Santa Claus?</span></strong> : No.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Blown bubbles?</span></strong> : Who hasn’t?<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Bonfire on the beach?</span></strong> : Yeah Baby.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">Cheated on a test?</span></strong> : Yeah. Thanks M.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Gone skinny-dipping in a pool?</span></strong> : How skinny are we talking about here ??<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">and ofcourse everyone is tagged. :)<br /></p>~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-26444293181446739092007-05-08T23:03:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:53:01.460-08:00Most rewatched moviesc Again, sakshi tagged me for it. Most rewatched movie. whoa !! a kind of tag i'd luv to do. its a known fact that i m a movie buff..and thr are millions of movie i have watched millions of times. but top five wud be.<br /><br />1) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0110912/">Pulp Fiction</a> : my fav movie. thr was a time i used to watch it daily. this movie is a religion to me. i keep on reading about it on net, in books and everytime i read about it i need to watch it again. and everytime i feel oh my god !! how can i have not seen this last time. this is a complete movie. everything is perfect about it. Hail QT !!<br /><br />2) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112573/">Braveheart</a> : my second year of college was spent watching this movie. Me and G used to sit and watch it and watch it again. we have memorised it "by heart". craziness went to extent that even when i was reading a book i'll play this movie in the bckground insted of music.<br /><br />3) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0167260/">LOTR</a> : i've lost the count of how many times i have sene this movie. i remember 12 times all 3 parts at a stretch and individually each part, countlessly.<br /><br />4) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0110222/">Kabhi haa Kabhi naa</a> : i feeel this is the best movie if SRK. just love it. :)<br /><br />5) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0073707/">Sholay</a> : the mega movie. period.<br /><br />and yeah, everyone is tagged !!<br /><br /><br />********************** EDIT **************************<br /><br />i'm feeling that i'm doing injustice to alot of films..so here are a few more<br /><br />6) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0133093/">The Matrix</a> : it was like a dialy thing in my first year. have mugged up all the dialogues and all. though i like matrix 2 the most, but i have seen 1 a lot more.<br /><br />7) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0137523/">Fight Club</a> : this list have to have atleast one movie of ed norton. so here it is. not his best work though. watching this movie first time was killer. but i liked the attitude and concept so much that it is one of the most seen movie and most read book as well. i recommend the book as well. profound !!<br /><br />8) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0104561/">Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar</a> : best aamir khan movie. you are low and want to get in fifth gear. watch dis movie.<br /><br />9) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0210945/">Remember The Titans</a> : same as jo jeeta wohi sikandar, just that its best denzle washington movie. just wtch it before any game you're out to play.<br /><br />10) <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054098/">Mughal-E-Azam</a> : its like one of the fav family film (ok, except for my sis. she wont understand a word of it). i love the dialogues of the movie. hindi can never compare urdu. it can never have that smooth velvet touch, that formal yet binding tone.~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8734680.post-79665670872905660082007-05-07T02:28:00.000-07:002007-12-18T14:52:35.650-08:00i have a dream..Up thr "Reds"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rj7xqveyTaI/AAAAAAAAADE/rrgJ4VIw7WA/s1600-h/bd6a557f0acc49c89a7bf37e2bb7df70_400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KyuHKvzpaQU/Rj7xqveyTaI/AAAAAAAAADE/rrgJ4VIw7WA/s320/bd6a557f0acc49c89a7bf37e2bb7df70_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061748747813408162" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high<br />And don't be afraid of the dark.<br />At the end of the Storm there's a golden sky<br />And the sweet, silver song of a lark.<br />Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,<br />Though your dreams be tossed and blown.<br />Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart,<br />And you'll never walk alone.<br />You'll never walk alone.~Lord Anshulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02713254615455512049noreply@blogger.com4