Pen masala ...or how I was Narendra Modi'd into submission

Ever been to a pub (?!) in Delhi? well, if you have then you'd know of the decibel levels that prevail and proceed to not allow for/kill any conversation that may be. And, its not even like the music itself demands such rapt attention to begin with.

Well, anyway, so we (two friends and I) were in one of these places and we decided to 'raise the bar' (ok, sorry!) on the entertainment scene. The oldest word-building game we ever learnt in our childhood proved to be the saving grace. And so, we created a story by adding one word (and later two and three words) each and carried on. Here comes what came, and I quote - not much choice there - verbatim:

*Cheers!*

Time and cigarettes are always so addictive just like shaking yourself on large, spiky cactus, but you are kidding not to blame the guilty pleasure of uninterrupted sex on a friday you get bobbitised...or dumped in a Hookah joint on a dirty camel in an oasised desert thirsty for only that last sip of Virgin Cola with Sting for accompaniment and Seal fur, made from coagulated Rum and Coke preferably,and won't that be a perfect fuckin' excuse for the father, son and the whatever that irks pigs in capitalist rockets and dogs in socialist craps that blot out the tits on pamela wannabes anderson or is it just an illusion?

*Hic*

Curiousity kills Rhinos and those sulky bastards who think they have horns in their bumpers. Satisfaction sucks when there is nowhere to self-combust like farts when friends hallucinate about technicolor potatoes and assholes shrink. Where Beer boils in envy over sticky coffee just like music that suffers from friggin' insomnia - don't you crunt (?) trips that reach dimensions where atoms spring chickens and parrots speak twisted Cantonese, Swahili and Latin...and men wear bras and g-strings.

As you may gather, we are all perfectly sorted-out folks, with NO issues, OR angst, and we barely had much to drink. and of course, we but, *loved* the music and the service in there.

PS: Due apologies to Paul Simon and Robert McNamara...and anyone else who knows what I'm talking about...absolutely none for Narendra Modi though.

...and then I go and

..spoil it all by saying something stoopid like I'm HA-PPY!

but, I am! I am! I am!

...and this is also my debut semi-drunken post!!

tee! hee!

My friend just re-joined **** today - thats where I work, and where she used to...so, its all good, and needless to say, we went out to celebrate post...

..wherein, we had all that (I) hasn't (been) had in a-gessss now - namely, alcohol

(I'm sure I'm going to delete this post when I am sober!! hee!hee!)

what a sorry life it must be to get drunk-ish and spend a night with a blog

ulp.

back to non-happy then...

:(

Blog on Blog

I need some help here.

I want to propose/propogate 'Blogging' as a 'breakthrough means of learning'.

any ideas, people?

Will keep updating my (utterly meagre) knowledge on the subject as we move on. Lets start at the very beginning:

In my limited experience, blogs have started for a variety of reasons:
· A resolution to do some ‘real’ writing
· A forum to opine
· An experiment with the Internet
· A means to make new ‘friends’ (ummm...)
· A chance to broaden perspective

(do add to the points here, and more importantly, answer the question: How does a blog help you learn?

Plagiarised Life?

...just a thought - we all have distinct characteristics and thoughts and opinions...but they all find a root in some inspiration, some time, by someone or something...nothing is original.

does that mean that we all live plagiarised lives?