Expectations, Expectations....

Correct me if I'm wrong, and I'm usually never wrong. Okay! Maybe that one time about the new neighbour down the block with those lovely locks of long hair and an amazing pair of jean clad legs, Unbelievable.

So, it turned out he was a guy, but in my defense, I didn't get a glimpse at his face. It could have happened to anyone. No biggie.  

No.  Biggie.

As I was saying. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it just so happens that so much of what we percieve is shaded by a thick film of expectation. So much so that, at times, It isn't so much a matter of shading our perception of life as it is a matter of morphing our view of the world.
I say this because, more often than not, expectations are not just delicate bubbles of hope that pop soundlessly when unfulfilled, they're more like huge gas balls that leave aftershocks of regret in their tread. They're that really annoying pimple which seems poised to never leave your face and when you finally blast the bitch out of sheer frustration, it morphs into this even uglier dark spot that just squats there staring at you through the mirror.

AAAARGH!

I know that wasn't much of an example, but what I'm trying to say is that expectations sometimes tend to take over reality, they tend to shape our lives and inevitably screw with our heads.

Your first relationship, for example. Movies are such a pain. Books are even worse. They fill you up with magical hope and fairytale expectations. Love at first sight. Intense feelings of scorching passion.  *belch*  What you get is an intense smell of onions with greasy hair and a spectacular moustache.


What about the first time you see a girl naked. You want it to be a young beauty with a pert lushness and exotic sensuality far beyond your wildest dreams. Until of course, you end up on a school trip to an old age home to honour the wizened. Bet you won't forget that trip to the restroom. Bet you'll always knock. Seriously. Always knock. Always. *shudder*


Let's not forget the Gym. The Gym is the birthplace of expectations. It's the temple of the ego. Everywhere you look, there's a mirror. Everywhere you look, there's a flexer. It's the battleground of sweat, toil and tears. Where egos are built or destroyed. You either make it, or you don't. Whatever the outcome, there's always some buffed up, testosterone clad jackass flexing his pecs and looking you over in a silent dare of "What-you-looking-at-punk".

Pretty soon, this 'cocky someone' is every expectation you've ever had and never seen. This 'cocky someone' comes to represent what you can never possess. This 'cocky someone' becomes the "in-your-face" that life shoved straight at you. This 'cocky someone' has it ALL.

The gym is a cruel place for the untrained mind. Where egos are built or destroyed.

Especially....Especially if said 'cocky someone' ends up flat on the floor with the heel of his right hand coaxing his now battered groin.   Don't judge me.

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Whatever the case, fulfilled or unfulfilled, expectations are dangerous. Wishes are best kept reasonable and low-flying.

Yeah right!

Where's the fun in that! Expectations are dreams. Nobody should limit their dreams. Dreams are our escape into the unbelievable and the improbable.

For all we know, I might still get that kiss from Angelina Jolie. And if it isn't the best? If it isn't upto expectation? Who cares? I'll still piss off Brad Pitt and a ton of other guys. And that, my friends, is worth it all.

Halos and Tridents...

                                           

T'was the call of a new time. The first step into the unseen. As the early specks of light dust broke through the tiny crevice between my shades, It snapped open a calm revrie and my eyes tore apart with toe-curling realisation,

I've gotta pee....REAL BAD!!

                                               

Sorry about that. Kinda tasteless but couldn't resist. The lil' devil in my mind kept saying, "GO FOR IT!".

You know, the same nasty bugger that makes you want to kick someone in the ass every time they happen to be bending over tying their shoelace or something.

                                                 

The same one that makes you want to run over a mime just because the street needed another zebra crossing.

                                               

It's that nasty devil that almost always clobbers your pure conscience leaving you regretting a deed you really should've thought twice about. Especially when said "Kicked-butt" turns around with a six-foot confidence and a raging fist itching to have a go at remodelling your sorry face. Especially even, when you're left scraping all the gooey white makeup that stubbornly clings to your front bumper with the kind of annoying defiance you come to see with mimes.

There seems to be a raging war in our heads that governs the deeds of all and sundry. More often than not, these minor battles are but ripples to a still water that is life. But there come times in every person's life when decisions have the ability to upturn, to disturb a tranquillity and to bring ashore a hurdle unforeseen.

                             
Now, I'm not going to be all angelic. There's not going to be any saint like bullshit from me. No "The truth shall set you free", No "Only the good shall succeed". That's all a load of poop. When it comes to these decisions, When that little devil starts polishing his trident and the angel, his halo (Don't really know what they go to war with, the halo must be there for something), both sides seem to carve "the perfect path". Both with it's share of benefits and piss-offs. I'm not really one to judge which is right and which is wrong. That folks, is a matter of perception.

But I will tell you this. Don't try to think of it as the path of the devil or the path of the angel. Just stop and consider this, Is what you're about to do going to be worth it?

For when the first specks of light dust break through the tiny crevice between your shades, snapping open a calm reverie signalling the dawn of a new day, When the world opens it's arms to a tomorrow,

Will you be able to spread your shoulders with a warmth that comes with the knowledge of a job well done and a guilt free future that lasts longer than the few minutes of joy that comes from a stolen orgasm or a drug induced high?

We all fight our own battles littered with guilty pleasures and hooded memories. Our back yard is as cluttered as our neighbours. Only we have the right to look back and criticise.

Don't judge others when we know not what they have to face. Ones life is ones own. It's our identity. Be it good or bad. Be it the fuck-ups or just the good ol' "ups". It's ours for the taking.

Kids, poodles and poopy pants.....

                                                                   "Childhood Innocence"

Surely they weren't serious? Surely there's been some kind of a mistake? Someone must be having a laugh?


Whoever decided to bring the two words together must surely be laughing his bony bum off in a grave somewhere.

Either that or he must have been high. I hear Opium was legal those days. Must have taken an small Asian nation just to keep the creative in question awake.

Either that or it was written by an idiot. Apparently "Someone" gifted life without the curse of self-awareness. Or taste, irony or judgement for that matter.

Whoever thinks children are innocent surely hasn't been tasked with babysitting those nasty buggers yet. No matter what, I always end up having to find my wallet under couches and behind cupboards. And they almost always have a few notes missing, Not that there were many in the first place. And the STAINS.GOD!!! those STAINS!!!

                                                          

But those issues aside, Kids have always had a sort of perverse sense of thought. By perverse, I refer not, to the sexual innuendos of adults. Nope, for them, puberty is miles away and any sight of the opposite sex makes them run for cover, screaming "COOTIES" as a distress call for all to hear.

                                                  

Nope. What I'm referring to, is different sort of perversion. The sort of perversion that's to do with wet ketchup stains, poopy pants, wet beds and the oh-so-unforgettable FART JOKES. You think we'd be above such stuff, but our backyard is ridden with childhood memories to negate such false assumptions.

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Look at me for instance,

By age 11, I was convinced that poodles were dogs with some weird hair shedding disease. I mean, look at these buggers.

                                                            

By age 12, Ben Franklin made way into my school syllabus. I had my first Einstein moment that day. I'd theorised that the growing poodle population had nothing to do with a fast spreading hair disease but everything to do with a bunch of dogs who'd decided to pee on a lightning rod in the middle of a Thunder storm.

                                                    

Something similar to this

By age 13, I was told it wasn't the rod that rode down the side of a building. Merely a wire connected to it.

                                                        

Safe to say, I thought the teacher an idiot. Never poop on kid's imagination. You might just end-up with some on your doorstep.
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Now, That brings to mind another obsession. The word "Poop" had made it's way into every child's vocabulary. I was no exception. We'd be hurling insults at the speed of light to all and sundry. With words ranging from poopy pants to poopy poop and the infamous poopy face, The "largely brown" spectrum was vast growing owing to no lack of imagination or creative input on our part.
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And the fart jokes just kept coming. We'd been blasting fart noises into the still atmosphere ever since we learnt to "Pucker up and blow".

                                                        

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But all jokes aside, I didn't mean it when i say kids aren't innocent. They're the best kind of innocent.

You see,

As we grew up, Our best friend becomes our worst enemy.
Lollipops turned to cigarettes.
Home work went in the trash.
Detention became suspension.
Soda became vodka.
Kisses turned into sex.

Remember when getting high meant swinging on the playground?
When protection meant wearing a helmet?
When the worst things you could get from boys were cooties?
When Papa's shoulders were the highest place on earth and mommy was the love of ur life?
When your worst enemies were your siblings?
When race issues were about who ran the fastest and war was only a card game?
When only drug you knew was cough medicine?
When the only things that hurt you were skinned knees?
When goodbyes only meant, until tomorrow?
Remember when we couldn't wait to grow up?

Bring back that innocence folks. The world needs it. You need it!

So reach under your beds, Don on that red-blanket and take to the skies in your blue boxers. And when you've reached the highest....the peak....the summit....

                                                            just PUCKER-UP and BLOW.

Cacti, Lesbians and Derailment

In the murky waters of the human psyche, None is more wily than 'Thought'. This slippery dweller is hard to get hold of, much less control. It's subtle shifts in direction can put you off topic and off course, speeding head first into unforeseen predicaments.

Permit me to explain using an example.

Visualise this, One minute you're with friends, bumping and grinding your way into a sort of post-exam delirium, and the next, you wake up stuck face first to a cactus with your pants around your ankles. Devoid of any recent memory, You only have the wafting vapours of a night best left forgotten and a growing sensation to use the....

Sorry, I lost track.

                            

But then again, That's just it! We lose track! More often than not, Subtle pushes are all it takes to derail, what many have come to call as, The Train Of Thought.

What makes this all the more astonishing is the ludicrousy of the far-fetched ends of the thought spectrum.

Come to think of it. Is Ludicrousy even a word? I mean, I've heard of Ludicrous, Everyone's heard of Ludicrous! But I've never actually found the word Ludicrousy in any dictionary. I've googled it and still no answers. Would that I had invented the word myself merely cause it sounded nice? Then again, What is language other than a medium for comfortable human communication? And what is comfort other than...

Sorry, I got ahead of myself there. Where was I? Aah yes, The Thought Spectrum.

What's funny about it is that you never really know where you're gonna end up. One minute you're in a heated convo surrounding the lifetime of a headless cockroach (9 days is what I've heard) and the next, You're in blatant awed appreciation at the size of Scarlett Johannsen's ..................... SMILE.

                                         

                                                                   Never a dull topic, ehh?

To illustrate this further, I've ventured 'long and hard' (Whoever made this idiom is a freak. Sheesh, could you be any less tactful) into the depths of Google land and have come up with an absolute cracker.



                                         Screw the ozone layer folks! Class just got interesting!

All jokes aside, The train of thought is a beautiful concept to ponder. Next time you're in conversation with your buddies. Stop for a minute and try recollecting the links to the chain. It's a fun exercise.


                                                                  Until next time, people!

Misconceptions of Major proportions....

People should know, I'm not a very political person. The most interested I've ever been in politics is when Aragorn had to usurp the steward of GONDOR and take his rightful place as king. *That was in reference to one of the most awesome pieces of literature in living memory, The Lord Of The Rings.* For those who haven't read the series, .............. , I'm sorry but is that even a possibility. Anyways, before my mind starts wandering, lets get back to my take on politics,

Umm, Politics, yes, right, my take, sooo, POLITICS!!.
                                                        

Nope! Still nothing!

                                                   

So, When someone came up to me the other day and asked,

RANDOM DUDE : "Hey Dude, you're Muslim, right?"
ME : "uh-huh"
RANDOM DUDE : "Why do you hate the world so much, What's with all the terrorism?"
ME : "They weren't real, I swear!"
RANDOM DUDE : "What weren't real?"
ME : "The fart noises, I swear, They might seem so in the video, buh they were completely dubbed."
RANDOM DUDE : "What are you talking about?"
ME : "What are YOU talking about?"
RANDOM DUDE : "Al-qaeda, Bombs, Taliban, etc, etc"
ME : "Ohh...So you havent seen the video?"
RANDOM DUDE : "What video?"

*Note to self; delete video*

And then folks, The entire conversation does a rerun through my head. Here was a guy believing that Muslims have a soft spot for mass murder. Now thats just wrong!! My issues with clowns aside, I have absolutely no homicidal tendencies within me, Dormant or otherwise. Sure, there was that Mime I ran over last year, but in my defence, I'm pretty sure he was alien anyways.

                                                    

(What perfectly sane guy would ever wear make-up? And that shade of lipstick sooo didnt go well with his scarf. Also, a little foundation never harmed anyone, perhaps even a tanning appointment. And those tights, CAN WE SAY DISASTER, anyone?)

RANDOM DUDE : "Umm, are you just gonna stand there all day, or, am I gonna get a reply."
ME: "Oh...uhh...where were we?? Aah yes, your implication on my religion. Honestly bro, I don't get where you're getting this from. Your misconceived assumption based on a stereotype without foundation is quite literally degrading."
RANDOM DUDE : "But it's true right?"
ME : "HELL NO! I donno who the Al-Qaeda or Taleban are, but they are NOT MUSLIMS!! There is no such thing as EXTREMIST muslims. We DO NOT live by the sword. ('Light Saber' i can imagine, That be like super cool, I'd make an awesome Yoda and then w....), Oh ryt, umm....., The point is, JIHAD is our struggle to practise our religion despite oppression. We DO NOT go to war, GET IT! There is absolutely no question of waging a "HOLY WAR" to "SPREAD THE FAITH" and compel people to embrace Islam; THAT would be lame cause you wouldn't be embracing us with a NICE WARM HUG then, Would you?"
RANDOM DUDE : "Relax dude. It was an honest question."
ME : "Nah, its not your fault, Half the world thinks so."



RANDOM DUDE : "Yeah, sorry man.
ME : "It's fyn."
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RANDOM DUDE : So, I wish there was something really fun that would take my mind out of boredom. The Olympics are boring and football doesn't start in two weeks."
ME : "FUN huh? WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU MEAN SIR?"
RANDOM DUDE : "SOMETHING WITH LIGHT  HEARTED HUMOR, A WEBSITE PERHAPS?"
ME : "HMM..WOULD A BLOG DO?"
RANDOM DUDE : "AWESOME!!"
ME : "YEAH, YOU'LL LOVE IT. IT'S CALLED "BOOGERS,CO...............

*And they said i wasn't good at SUBTLE advertising, I'm bloody darn awesome with it*

issues with the 'NOSE'...

As a general rule, the face is the first thing one sets their eyes to during a conversation(unless ofcourse, it's angelina jolie, in which case, our focus would be, ..... , umm, lets just NOT go there)

                                            

Case in point, the nose shares major focal time. WELL, Ofcourse it does, Not everyone is THIS guy.

                                          

Like i was saying, "Baldy Voldy's" nose issues aside (or lack of therof), the nose plays a major role in conversation. Since time immemorial, Mankind has grimaced at the sight of anything within the vicinity of the 'Nose'.it leads to unhealthy distractions and veerrryyy awkward conversations. Sadly enough, i experienced this FIRST HAND.
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I was supposed to do a project with this girl i really liked, and as is the case with any guy who ends up spending time with a girl he really likes, Nothing ever ends up being done.

Sooo, what ensues is loads and loads of talking (JUST TALKING FOLKS, sadly)

It's only after a few minutes that i notice something i wish i had'nt. By now, u'd know what i mean by something. If not, then READ the blog title.

So,There i was, completely disracted with this expression on my face.

                                                      

Normally, you would point such a thing out to someone, but there is a slight problem of me actually having a thing for this girl. Oblivious to all thats going on in my head, she's still talking. Try as i can, i cant get a word she's saying. All i'm thinking is,

                                                      

I do ocassionally catch snippets of the convo but by now, i'm so far gone that she could have said, "Wanna get frisky?" and all i would have done was....

                                                    

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My mind starts imagining things (it's like a crazy itch), and by now i'm wondering if that 'thing' is actually ALIVE. It keeps saying....

"Na na na naa....you can'y get me....loser"
"i'm gonna stay here all day"
"maybe ill invite my friends over"
"how abt i just swivell around a bit"

With these words running around, my mind is a chaotic mess. On the outside, I might look like this,

                                                    

But on the inside,

"GET IT OFF"
"GET IT OFF"
"GET IT OFF"
"GET IT OFF"
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Until she says "Get what off?".
(Lets just say, I wasn't just saying it in my head.)

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"You've got a little something...umm...ur nose...umm"
                                           
Swiping a hand, she looks at me warily, "Relax! it's just a crumb of thermcol"

                                           -------------------------------------------------

"OH....umm..sooooo...umm....Where were we?"

"Well we were supposed to cut a slab of thermocol into circles for the project. I did just that....YOU on the other hand?"....she glances at my hands.
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              Let's just say, The subconscious is a scary thing.

WHY you never saw it coming....

A frequently asked question is, "Dude,where do u get these stuff?".This ofcourse is not said in appreciation or wonderment but with a major feeling of exasperation. I tend to ignore such wibes,it impairs my genius, or lack of thereof.

In this case, this particualr apocolaypse theory hit me while i was baby sitting my cousin sister. As with all girls below the age of 10 (or for that matter, above that) they tend to have an annoying vibe surrounding them. Really infuriating creatures who take delight in torturing our sorry souls. Anyway, I was in the middle of a footie match on the telly and this mongrel decides to change the channel. A good fifteen minutes of negotiations later, she ended up with a box of chocolates, a good fraction of my weekly pocket money and still in possesion of the TV remote.

So there I was trying to devise this entirely awesome plan on how to get the remote back from her clutches. I was thinking the following :

A) Distraction (shove the pet cat in her hands)
B) While she's going all "Awww....sooo cute".....execute 'PROJECT NINJA', aka 'dive for remote'
C) Shove a donut down her throat to negate any future fits of whining.

or......

D) IF none of that works, i could always hit her over the head and hide the body.

Backup plan          

Just when i think things cant get worse, this infernal racket starts playing on the telly, the source of which, is one of those Barbie cartoons. HELP!

The movie in question

An hour of absolute brain draining TRAUMA later,(By now, I've exhausted all strategies to get the remote because nothing seems to work. She's just too smart, the brat. and for some reason, I'm not allowed to hit her over the head while babysitting. WHO MAKES THESE RULES ANYWAYS??).
So, having nothing else to do and suffering from a minor migraine, my brain decides to take a detour into LOONEYVILLE, the birth place of crazy thought. In doing so, my mind has decided to target the one thing which sent it there in the first place, 'the Barbie'. 
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Thereby, I've come to the following thesis on the "Barbie". The following points must be taken in honest consideration :

Observation 1: All the characters in the barbie world look the same. This goes for both guys and
                           girls. Only things that differ are the wardrobe and the hair.

Observation 2: These cartoons are a retelling of all the famous fairy tales that have shaped our lives.

Observation 3 : It's visually starining, the glitters and colour and the colours leave you with major
                           migraines.

Observation 4 : The missing reports and the last conversation of the missing victim both seem to be
                            pointing towards a certain foot high, blonde with an annoying smile.

Taking these in mind, ive come to suspect that MATTEL is a front for a secret space invasion by a race of evil alien barbies. Using their apparently cute looks and  leadig fashion trends, they've gained entry to our homes lying in dormancy until as and when they see fit to launch their attack against mankind. Another clever move is the afore mentioned reshaping of famous fairy tales as a means of influencing young girls worldwide. Theyve led them to believe that to look like a barbie is all it takes to be the among the finest of the elite (hence the lack of diversifying factors in all their dolls).

                            
                                   *The above are examples of barbie zombified bimbos*

It's all a means to create a feeling dystopia around the world. Another slight but largely advantageous factor in their favor is the glaring visuals in all their animations(which i really do believe is carried out on purpose), This i beieve is a means to hyptonize and brain wash their viewers (the sideeffects of which are ear-splitting migraines and dizziness).

Theyve begun with the disappearance of innocent young boys who love to disfigure the dolls of their young sisters (i think they know what's going on). Also, The missing shuttle mustve intercepted the barbie spaceship enroute, hence the sudden diappearance.

                                               
                                                           *evil barbie overlord*

The accoplaypse is coming folks, Mankind is about to embark on the greatest war our civilisation has ever seen, provided we notice the attack ofcourse.

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                          *For those who wanna know. Looneyville looks something like this*

When doing too much gets the better of you....

Ever noticed how sometimes you're hit by a force of imagination and you act on it immediately, but after sometime u realise that YOU CANT STOP. It's like you're running into a brick wall and your mind keeps telling you, "It's miles away, just keep running", and then all of a sudden,

Well, that's what happened to me. In my last post, i got hyper and started writing and i went on and on and on until "SPLAT!!!". Now i'm in between a rock and a hard place trying to come up with a theory that'd would make the entire thing plausible.

But don't worry folks, My imagination hs never failed me before, and i dont intend to let a bunch of homicidal dolls bring me down.

You never saw it coming.....

3 AM, early saturday morning....the folks at the FBI recieve a call from a frightened young boy, forwarded by the police ofcourse. (STOP TRYING TO FIND LOOPHOLES IN THE STORY!!!)

Oooh and when i say FEDS, i mean

NOT

Note : The following is a work of fiction, DONT SHOOT ME!!!!

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BOY: *Shreiking*  *heavy breathing*  *Some more shreiking* pause for effect *More shreiking*

AGENT: "calm down sir....just take deep breaths...calm down.....i need you to do that for me...okay.....now what'd you say your name was again?"

AGENT: "This is not working....sir please....keep calm.....*more shreiking*.....WILL YOU SHUT THE FUDGE UP!!!!!"

BOY: *falls quiet* "umm....my name is Matthew" *heavy breathing* "I'm scared" *more heavy breathing* "It's after me" *sobs*

AGENT: "It's a kid!!! Where are you? What's after you, son? Can u describe it? anything at all?"

BOY: "I'm at 234 venue,newberry."*sobs*

AGENT: "Okay, keep calm...someone's on the way, decribe it for us, can u do that son?

BOY: "It's abt a foot high," ( AGENT : "A foot....WHAT IS THI"  ) "Its got blonde hair and creepy eyes and keeps grinning at me" *shreiks* "it keeps getting closer"

AGENT: "Kids these days!!!"

*click*

BOY: "HELLO?? HELLO??"

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The Next day: Boy reported  missing. Taken from bed, both doors and windows were reportedly shut from the inside. The question arises, Where did he go?

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Somewhere around the same time, in the state of arizona (WHY DO ALL THE COOL STUFF HAPPEN IN THE USA??) ,scientists at NASA recieve a call from APOLLO 21

ASTRONAUT GUY : "Houston, we have a problem!!"

NASA DUDE : "Roger that, Astronaut guy!! Go on.

ASTRONAUT GUY : "Incoming projectile, 1000 knots, 2000 knots ITS GETTING CLOSER!!!"

NASA DUDE :"Can u describe the projectile?"


ASTRONAUT GUY :"It seems like astroid segment....wait it's coming closer....AAAARGHH!!!!"

NASA DUDE : "HOW CLOSER? CAN YOU DODGE IT??"

ASTRONAUT GUY : "WE'RE ABOUT TO BE HIT!!!!.....AAAAAAARGH!!!!!"



NASA DUDE : " WHA..."

ASTRONAUT GUY : "AAAAAAARGH!!!!!"

NASA DUDE : " WHA..."

ASTRONAUT GUY : "AAAAAAARGH!!!!!" *staic* *starts laughing*

NASA DUDE : "WHA....wait....why are you laughing? what happened?"

ASTRONAUT GUY : "You woud'nt believe it if i told you" *more laughing"

NASA DUDE  : "What is it??"

ASTRONAUT GUY : "take a guess....its abt a foot high...blonde hair...WAIT....SOMETHINGS WRONG....IT SEEMS TO BE LAUGHING.....WHAT IS THIS?? SOME KINDA  JOKE?? OH NO!!! OH NO!!! OH NO!!!

NASA DUDE  : "What is it? WHAT IS...."*static*"ARE YOU THERE??"*static*

                                                          *CONNECTION LOST*

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The Next day: NASA space shuttle disappears in space. Question arises, ARE WE ALONE OUT THERE?

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These were just two of many instances which took place wihin the span of saturday evening and sunday morning, is there a connection to this chaos, will order be restored, stay tuned to find out.