Horror Show (Vol. 1)

You know your weekend will jump straight into a pool of shit when:

You decide your second date with a Brazilian dude should be at a nightclub.
Tequila's on the house.
You don't have to drive back.
This guy you randomly made out with sometime back, knows your date. (!)
Tequila's on the house.
You're drinking like the world's ending in 1.46 minutes.
You're high and deny it.
Your date starts looking like a hazy blur.
On your way to the loo you trip and fall.
Tequila's on the house.
On your way to the parking lot, you trip, roll down an entire flight of stairs.
You puke in the backseat of his friend's shiny new Merc.
You puke some more. Where? You don't even remember.
You're passed out right through the drive home; marinating for an hour, in your vomit.
Once the car stops, you stumble out, fall flat and scrape your knees.
Your friends put you to sleep and clean your wounds with whiskey.

And... And. AND:

Your friends tell you that while you were passed out, they caught you snoring.

*heart fucking attack*
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
There are moments in life when sheer embarrassment renders you incapable of normal speech and makes you want to head to a town where nobody knows you so you can adopt a couple of puppies and grow old in absolute anonymity.
This was one such.

Rot in hell, tequila, you motherfucking bitch!
Die!

Image courtesy: Photoshy's photostream @ FlickR.

Wanted: Internship!

Waaaaaah! x'(
Waaaaaaaaaaaah!! x'(

Dear Santa,
I've been a good girl:
a) I got drunk a lot
b) I did not chew up anyone's furniture, and
c) scammed my daddy for Rs. 1000 only twice
Then why-oh-why didn't I get what I asked for? I made, but, one simple request.
One. Simple. Request.
And you- of all the people- know this is something I wanted with all my heart:

*Spongebob Squarepants socks*
I mean, seriously, was that too much to ask for?
:'(
You've let me down Santa... *sniff* No, you've really let me down :'(
Well, anyway...
Until next year when I'll want favours from you,

Suck it, bitch!

* * *

You know you're headed for intellectual doom when:
You know every song on Vh1's Top 5 Party Songs of 2009 (with complete lyrics)

* * *

By the way, all these "salesmen"? You know... The ones that go door-to-door trying to sell you funny stuff?
Who buys from them? Ever?
Forget buying- have you ever observed people even open the door more than 3.4 inches for a salesman?
...So there's him dying to sell you (in screwed up English) his Set of 6 Cook-Books @ 50% off or that "electric bat that swats mosquitoes" which he swears you'll never-ever find in any showroom.
And there's us, trying to force the door shut saying "illa illa... beda..." taking care that his nose doesn't get squashed in the process.
Whew!
Entertaining eh?
I'm thinking ke bhaiyya, paapi pet ka sawal hai...

* * *
What's been up eh?

-First year is almost over. I have to step into the "real world" and find an internship.
Reminds me of those scenes in Bollywood movies:

... a young lad of 22-23 (sole support of an ailing mother and blind sister) stands all day in queues outside those tall buildings hoping to get a job; he's just about reached the front of the line and a funny looking man (fully conscious of cameras around) enters and slaps the "NO VACANCY" sign on the front doors. The sun scorches on mercilessly, as a drop of sweat trickles down the hero's forehead...

HAHA! Just a thought!
So yeah.. "Internship". Top bug of 2010.

-I'm thinking of giving Wordpress a shot. I've heard its pretty cool.
But... I'm so afraid that it will do to this blog, what Facebook did to my Orkut usage, that I refuse to think about the idea and call myself a retard thrice a day to have thought such a thing.

-College is bustling full-speed-ahead (or not) : We had to write a jingle for a "hair restoring gel" today. Ahem.
My jingle sucked komodo-dragon balls.

-I think the lady next door knows that I smoke! I was smelling like an ash-tray and got stuck in the lift with her; she covered her face with her saree ka pallu and made retching actions. The asshole.

-Joke of the day:
Q: How is Santa Claus different from Tiger Woods?
A: Santa stops at 3 Ho's.
Bwahaha!

-I'm seeing someone! :D
Yup. An artist pretending to be an automobile engineer. He's obsessed with music and we smoke pot together. Haha!

* * *

The year so far?
Runny nose, pending projects, unfinished poems, and a leaky faucet.
Sigh.