Caesarean Rhapsody

While we are on the topic of liberation of the sexes, here’s a gender bender from France. An ad run by Hyundai motors for one of their new seating features. Very nicely done.

Sometime between the 2nd and the 3rd joints is when you tend to reflect best on things that may not even titillate 1/2 a neuron otherwise. Maybe a visit to the shit-pot comes in a close second. But the kick you get out of weed invariably makes you think hard over matters of least importance.

Last time me and a few other friends got together for a smoke, we decided to set right something which had been eccentric for a long time, given the women’s liberation and all that zatang stuff that Cosmo writes about. Henceforth

Life is a son of a bitch.

Come on. The ladies after all need their fair share in everything.

Peace out!

I read a few 55 word short stories 2 weeks back. Got me thinking about writing one myself. So here’s my shot at it.

“She had to have it all”, he thought, “the damn slut.” He took a long, last drag before snuffing out the cigarette. Stepping out onto the asphalt, he took off his trench coat and looked up. The clouds had parted and sun reflected off the windows of the humongous skyscraper. The rain had finally stopped.

I just had a revelation. There are two women who really do a number on me. Charlize Theron and Uma Thurman. Woah baby! Together they can run the whole of India with the amount of electricity they generate with one sway of their hips. Tchah, it’s such a sexy … er … sexist thought. I need a cold shower.

…and sadly it does so only on my brain. I wish it would do so about 3 feet lower on my anatomy. ‘cos that is exactly all it is worth to me. And as if that isn’t enough I’ve got a whole bunch of loonies in my project workgroup. Apart from me, there’s a guy with a “Big Mac” posterior, a guy who can’t stop making up geeky analogies for something as casual as a crow taking a shit, a kid trying to make it past puberty, a fully grown man with the social quotient of a withered leaf, a slut, a grandma figure and thankfully a normal guy who’s fun but he’s got curfew since he’s recently married. Add to this my boss who can appreciate movies only if they resemble the National Lampoons series. My god a National Lampoons rerun marathon would mean a piggie orgasm for him.

My god I hope this post doesn’t manifest itself to one of my admission committee guys. Anyway my frustration’s out, so back to work. D-oh!

Syed Tanveer Hussain, Pakistan’s secretary for defence, in a fit of rage called for a jihad against India and the US yesterday. He seems to believe, that the dispute over Kashmir would be settled in one month if jihadis were allowed free entry into areas under Indian control. And I say India’s Pakistan troubles would be over in one “day” even if Indian girl scouts were allowed free entry into Islamabad. Suck it up Hussain. You ain’t getting nothing out of Kashmir.

… if you wanna Rock n Roll that is!

Although it is far easier on the black side of the music industry. Hip hop, a music genre (affirmative action quota) has risen to be one of the (if I remember correctly Meatloaf ranks higher) highest grossing genres in the industry today. Let us take a small journey through the illustrious past of this wonderful part of the entertainment industry.

It all started 2000 years ago in the forests of Sahara in Africa. Believe me it was a forest before Noah decided to build that blasted ark. Millions of Mallus and Bangladeshis were employed in the outsourced effort. Outsourcing later became a flourishing trade in India. But then I digress.

So the bushmen who lived in the Sahara forest got really bored with the constant rain and the Great Flood. So they came up with their own version of the Olympics. They called it the Hip Hop, since most of the games rendered the players’ hips obscenely twisted and they had to hop around for the rest of their lives.

Hip hop games such as calling each other names, commenting on the opponents mother’s weight, relating your sexual encounters with your “shorty” in the lewdest possible manner, explaining in minute detail how you shot a spear right through Tiny’s skull in the run-by etc soon became a rage in Africa and neighbouring countries. The Mallus, who were now jobless as Noah took off soon as the wood got delivered, decided to make a quick buck from this new fad. They sold their slave shackles and chains to the Hustlers, the official name of those who took part in the games. The unofficial name was Pimp or Pimp-Daddy for the elderly. They loved the chains and started wearing them around their necks and other bodily parts. One of them even wrapped his wang in those chains as a statement, thus giving it the name Bling. The word was the confluence American (a fresh entrant into the games) and Indian words for a man’s genitals, Boner and Lingam.

Then came the reforms. The women from the pack got bored of getting dicks shoved up their various cavities and finally rebelled. The coup was a success and the Hoes (the female official name) got their right to participate in the games. Not to mention, their right to date white men, getting boob jobs and butt lifts, something which was mandatory for older Hoes.

For 2000 years, not much changed. Everything was going just fine. As the years went by, the sportsmen had built up quite a sense of camaraderie. They started to call each other Brotha and Sistah (Not to be confused with English brother and sister. This is freakin’ historic gibberish people. Don’t make fun of it.) They also started redesigning people’s vehicles, an activity they called “pimping it up”. Hell, they even got a Brotha by the name Bill Clinton elected as the President of America.

But then some of them also wanted to spread the good word as far as they could. And they all traveled to California, where the real Mount of Olives was, to seek their Lord. And they found him in Compton. He was working undercover as a general physician, under the name Dr. Dre. Once he met his followers he gave up his practice and started a new religion called Gangsta-ism. This turned out to be the best religion, since all you did was

kill people

have sex in the park

push drugs on the streets

shove in some greasy fries with burgers & cool aid

have sex with the waitress in the diner toilet

maybe snort some coke if you have the time

drive flashy cars with bouncy pneumatic suspension

have sex in the car with suspension on full-bounce

drink exotic alcohol with names you can’t even pronounce
(shit! shouldn’t have dropped out of elementary school)

have drunken sex on the kitchen counter

count money you made from endorsements

have sex with your accountant and maybe his/her dog

Such was the acceptance for this religion, that the followers had to divide themselves into groups called Gangs. The Crips were responsible for preaching the west while Black Spades and Junior Mafia were handed over the much daunting task of preaching to the “white, prudish” east coast. They even came up with a dress code. They were all to wear stained and ripped denim pants and a sweatshirt with a covering for the head (a symbol of respect for Lord Dre). The head covering became a signature style for the preachers. The popular line “I’m from the hood” comes from this very fashion atrocity. The line slowly became the password for getting entry into underground pubs and basketball stadia.

The Crips used the sweet vocals of Brotha Snoop Doggy Dog to lure people to the prayer meetings. He was named after the symbols of Hip Hop culture. Snoop around for cash and drugs, get your shorty to give you some doggy style love and don’t even spare the dog in a drive-by. Snoop was joined by MothaFucka (this is what ushers are called in Gangsta-ism) Tupac Shakur in his endaevour. On the other hand, Brothas Biggie Smalls, 50 Cent and Biatch (female equivalent of Mothafucka) Queen Latifah had formed an alliance to make headway into the “white” dominated parts of America. And they made real headway too. Brothas Eminem and Vanilla Ice not only subscribed to the creed, but also joined in with the preaching right at the forefront.

A big change demands big sacrifices. And that is what happened. Biggie Smalls and Tupac were both shot down by secret followers of a rival religion KKK. Although they were made to look like drive-by’s. Come on, would you believe that an instrument devised by the Pimps could kill its own inventor? Stop giving me bull, I say.

Anyway, after these two deaths, most of the leading evangelists quit their jobs and moved on to other things in life. Queen Latifah became an actress. So did Will Smith. 50 cent gave up the sweatshirt with the hood and started cobbling a pathetic line of shoes called G-Unit which he pushes under Reebok’s name tag. Biatch Li’l Kim, whose magical voice was trained under the watchful eye of Biggie Smalls, gave up Gangsta-ism and started afresh with a new religion, Whore-ism, with other Sistas Mya, Pink and Christina Aguilera soon joining the fray. They made some really bad music and the sect never took off. Brotha RuPaul Charles got frustrated with the resistance to their preaching, gave up his manhood and became a drag queen we all know as Ru Paul. Lord Dre is still trying hard to find replacements for his Homeboys (a pet name he uses to refer to the top preachers). He keeps recruiting new people but all they seem to do is come up with the same old Shit (a code word for the prayers).

Gangsta-ism is on its final whimper losing most of its fan base to Rock n Roll, which is believed to be a satanic sect. All that is left of it is a few warring Gangs with ultra-rich leaders like Mothafucka Jay-Z who later became a Brotha, trying to push their credo onto the new generation. But sadly nothing seems to be changing the people’s minds. Recently Nas (who used to be a follower of Gangsta-ism) declared Hip Hop to be dead. And the followers have taken it very seriously.

I guess only time will tell what will happen to Hip Hop or the Pimps. Meanwhile ROCK RULES!!!

And no I’m not apologizing for racist slander, if there was any.

Was watching The Tonight Show some days back. In that Jay Leno happened to mentioned something about idiotic research conclusions. It seemed very funny at the time that people spent time and most importantly oodles of moolah on figuring out that staring at TV screens for long will tire your eyes or that eating too many onions gives you bad breath or that people fuck because of physical attraction,. But the newspaper we all love so much, had something similar to offer in today’s issue. Check it out: apparently smoking can damage your lung cells! Wow I have goosebumps with all that deluge of information