Irks to Quirks

I woke up this morning feeling particularly hateful towards stuff. Maybe it was the curry last night. Maybe not. (Either ways, I could only 'think' logically again once my bowels had given me the big 10-4)

I realise, that there are many things which are stupid and should be banned or shot at.

1. The guys who go from Blade to Back-Street Boy over a girl.

I love watching how once 'macho' guys are turned into love-struck pansies. I mean, don't get me wrong, getting a little action at this age is perfectly fine. Maybe I'm biased, having not experienced the sensation on making out behind the lockers or going at it in an empty class-room (that time with Dale doesn't count: he was lonely and and one thing led to another). Still, you've got to ask yourself, how long is it going to last? And what's it worth sacrificing?

The second I see an 'msn name' change from fairly manly, "Don't go to high-school, go to school high" to a vomit-fest inducing, "Girl, I love you, I can't live without you, your my baby, I'm your baby, we are all babies, I would walk a 1000 miles for you, put my Johnson into a bowl of hungry/horny piranhas for you, run around Times Square wearing nothing but a Napoleon Dynamite T-shirt for you, blah blah blah, barf barf barf...", I know that this guy has sold his soul to the devil. At least Faustus had fun! These dudes may as well start stocking up on Kotex!

Do I need to buy you face-scrub and an N-sync album? I never thought I would stoop to stealing a line from a Maruti-Suzuki advert but, "Where have all the men gone?" The rate these guys are going, video games and Jack Daniel's will soon become about as useful as a match-box in Operation Desert Fox.

Seriously guys, pull yourself together.

2. Trick-or-Treaters

Indian society is suffering from an identity crisis. This not America, therefore there is no Halloween, therefore you 12-year-olds need not come by my house asking for candy (I will give you biscuits: the bad, old ones you get for free in school). This is India. We have our own Holidays: Diwali (festival of lights and promotional offers on stuff that wasn't sold the rest of the year), Holi (what war would look like if we had psychedelic blood colours), Eid (Biryani. That's about it) and of course, every third day of the week is an auspicious day according to the Indian calendar (Gandhi-Jayanti, Vijay-Purnima, Laxshmi-Jayanti: just take any first name and last name of an Indian person using the age-old 'eeny meeny miney moe' method and combine the two).

Anyways back to "Hulovin". So I'm just minding my own business when I realise a couple of 4-foot vampires and a black cat with bad make-up standing outside my window nervously. And nervous they should be. Who do they think they are? Even if their blood/horror make-up was better looking than the roadkill still twitching on the road outside my complex, I would still be obliged to take the chain-saw from Gears Of War and "slip". Two things piss me off about these American-wannabes: first, they say trick or treat but what they really mean is "treat or I tell my mommy"; second, the only chocolate I have is expensive Swiss chocolate I steal from my sister and Hell will pay if I have to give it to you!

Insensitive kids; thinking I am going waste precious seconds getting up and opening the door and then slamming it again before they can finish saying treeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat (however satisfying that does sound). How's about I go as a pedophile for Halloween next year? I'd show THEM some tricks... "Don't worry, it's just a candy-cane, you can lick it"

3. NRI Families

Oh, I can just hear it now. The sound of a perfect American accent telling us that we should let the little kids play. Sorry Mr. Oh I've Only Moved Out Of My Mansion In Princeton Because I Wanted To Educate My Kids In India. This IS India. Finders, keepers; losers, sweepers.

We were playing football in my friend's complex the other day when these 10-year-olds came and told us to go away. (Credit to Valluri for smashing a ball at the kid's mug, causing a Tamil movie-like fight sequence stunt to ensue, involving the kid's flailing body being flung rag-doll-esque through the air) The irony of it all was, we (the elder lads) had got to the pitch first, and even allowed the diaper-wetting tots to join in our football match or Holocaust in their case. Then one of these little critters goes and calls the aforementioned NRI dad who strides onto the pitch with the look of a guy whose just taken a piss after an 8-hour car ride. "You guys have no right playing here. This is our property and most of you do not even live here. Please let these younger boys play."

Well, Captain America, thanks to your plan of moving back to India to give your kids an Indian up-bringing: YOU MOVED BACK TO INDIA. And being India, guess what? No ones gives a cow's balls as to what you think or do. We got here first, so get your self-righteous, "I am entitled to my civil liberties, you must follow the rules", ass off the pitch unless you wish to suffer the same fate as Rajnikanth Junior over there. (I think that kid's bottom jaw is facing backwards)

Anyways, more hate later.