Masses..and class

So okay, Simpson, this one’s yours..! I’ll try and write it as well as you tell it…and we’ll both peel off for a beer, and decide who’s one up.

Simpson keeps telling us that we are stubbornly middle classed in our beer-addled minds, and no amount of wealth will ever change it. "We-can-never-be-cool!" he pronounces,...and last Sunday, he comprehensively got me.

Here's how it goes for the Classes…wake up Sunday morning generously hung over….shower, shave by noon…call the blokes for a round of chasers…toddle over to the gizmo shop…for a new set of Blaupunkts for the wheels… kill a few beers while good ol’ Mahmud handles the cabling…toddle back…whip out the Amex…tip a few hundred bucks…and go over the club and hit the pool. All in a day’s work.

And here I was… after having shamelessly codged the ol' wheels off my old folks… I couldn’t have a drink on Saturday night cos’ I was so excited about getting a “system” for the wheels. And that wasn't the worst of it. Not by a long shot.

Woke up at six thirty the next day.... twiddled fingers and banana chips until Simpson woke up.. and proposed the following strategy “Haul me over to young Kumar’s under the bridge and let’s get the cheap speakers you’ve been telling me about. Will buy you beer after.” Simpson, of course, agrees to most things that have beer in it… (I think that’s how he got married in the first place…).

We landed up at Kumar’s at about ten thirty on what turned out to be a nice sunny morning….. waded vigorously into a debate about systems… Kumar generally carrying on about tweeters, woofers and whathaveyous, me shaking my head and simultaneously working out impact on my fragile finances, and Simp just shaking his head. We eventually landed on a JVC ("Japanese, sir!) system with no guarantee (“24% discount sir, and of course, there will be no trouble!”)

Simpson vigorously nodding his support, and off we were. Kumar took to his wiring job with a couple of pliers and great gusto, knocked over half the car, but it very satisfyingly looked like a set piece of seriously demanding engineering in about four minutes. Simp and I trundled over to take in by-two chaias and cigs….talking about kimi’s chances in the 2007 season, poked around in the shop looking at mag alloy wheels, and racing steering wheels, basically stuff I could afford when I hit sixty, was divorced and on the right side of the alimony cheques.

Job done, we played a couple of floyd numbers on it… and we were good. “Do you take a credit card?” “Yes sir yes sir.. Only 2% surcharge sir!” This (the surcharge which worked out to 349 bucks) of course blew my financial projections right out the window. Simpson of course generously agreed to ride with me to the nearest ATM and draw cash. Kumar nodded understandingly but sent young Thippu (who doesn't have a major role to play in the story) anyway to keep an eye on us.

We were at the ATM in about forty minutes of breakneck driving (and I mean that-I broke mine on the speedhump on airport road…..and Simp was on the side of the car which didn’t have a suspension). Sweating a little in our Nike tees but then it was noon, and the car’s AC …ummm….it didn’t have one.

I rushed into the ATM….and realized I didn’t have my card with me. Simpson, thoroughly understanding as ever, wiped the sweat off his dripping brow and smiled at me...through gritted teeth “Now what? Use your credit card?”

I, being the middle classed clod that I am, and horrified of paying a "surcharge", of course waved away such rational courses of action, and traveled at rapid pace over to Chet’s who was nursing a beer over the Sunday crossword. At the end of a conversation which had furious pleading on one end and raucous laughter on the other, Chet lent me his card, and we drove to another ATM, while I rambled on about how we’d get this sorted out in no time. Simpson looked me squarely in the eye, “Do you have the code?” “Of course” I rushed off once again.

Simp decided to cool off with some fruit juice, and I was back just as he had the straw in his parched lips. “Umm…I think I have forgotten the code….” Simpson dropping the juice “Call Che-" “…but I kept trying and I think the card is locked now”.

So there we were...on a hot Sunday afternoon......with a fairly simple task of getting some speakers fitted on the car, beer promised at the end of it.......but simply not the way of the wannabe. One surcharge, one lost debit card, one blocked card with seriously pissed-off card owner, an eventually homicidal Simpson and six sunny hours later ....we hit the bar..........."Bagini Bar- Closed for the Afternoon”

Simpson looks at me…" We just weren’t meant to be cool, were we?”

B.A.D.

Oh hell..this isn't as spicy as, it suggests. In fact, quite the opposite.

I am going to be boring for a change, and "try to make a difference" by posting about the environment, and adding my readership of 2 (yep...has me in there) to this idea of all the bloggers in the world writing about one idea, in this this case -the environment. (http://blogactionday.org/). In case you hadn't figured out, that's what the post title stands for...!)

And this sets me off on a bit of a tangent- what can I actually do for the environment? And after careful thought and deep consideration, I have the answer for the world - Oral Sex without Foreplay.

Oh..I am sure the reasons are blindingly obvious -but I really must elaborate, for the less bright sections of my readership (And I have a vague feeling this includes me).

Why Sex- Well, its non-carcinogenic for one, and going by recent scientific studies, apart from scratching your armpits, (Equally engaging, but one tends to run out of armpits beyond a point) it is one activity that is engaging yet completely non-carcinogenic. It may be harmful in a lot of other ways, but it is definitely non-carcinogenic. It also has the delightful bonus of engaging two (or more if you are Swedish or Haryanvi) in one activity, hence keeping global energy wilfully occupied in lesser space.

Oral - Ah! you had me here. I was going to go for the real deal, but then realized this involved a lot of rubber production and subsequent energy consumption if one was to prevent the said environmentalists engaged in aforementioned activity from encountering various ailments or taxing the global maternity ward capacity.

Non-foreplay: This one's the key here. See-if the foreplay umbrella encompasses all activities from the whole candlelight dinner on the beach deal, moving on to chocolate ice cream for dessert(men of the world, have you been missing this one?), and then again onto various creams and oils, and you know how much global warming manufacturing three million KL of aromatic oils and fragrances involves, we have a no-brainer here.

So here we are then - this is what I believe the world can benefit from. If all goes well, 4.7 billion people around the world are going to turn up at work with aching jaws and funny breath but definitely to a perceptibly cleaner environment.

Green Peace!

Conversations....and Menopause

One of the things that set apart human beings from various other beings on the planet is conversation. Animals more or less have simple sounds and gestures and (apparently) use it to convey simple messages in a "I want food" or "Need sex" kinda way while Humans have developed complex syntax of words, gestures and intonations that can convey deep and profound meaning to each other.

Or So I thought....

Of late, I have begun to realize that the whole conversation deal works fine for the human race...up to a point ..somewhere around menopause...beyond which they lapse into deep and profound communication with themselves....and when people meet...the basic idea is to look for a few gaps in the rival's tirade...so one can continue one's conversation with oneself... loudly and vocally....

Mrs. Killjoy, an old family friend and also matriarch of a fairly screwed up family, over to have a cup of tea with my own fabulous mother....sitting on a porch on a fairly pleasant day...

My Mum "Spew's girlfriend is a very nice girl, you know....very sweet...and her parents...even nicer... Spewdad and I are planning to go over to Dilley on the 17th...."

Nodding from Mrs. K "....17th..yes....Motley (her maniac daughter in law) is also planning to go over to her folks place on the 17th...its been so long, you know ...and ever since she had a baby...."

Cluck clucking from Mum...."Apparently, they have been living in Dilley ever since spewgirl has been a baby.....and they are both so well educated you know.....They are both professors in university....."

Mrs. K still in her stride ".....and hopefully she'll get some time to herself you know...she has been planning to go to university for her post graduation, you know....between one thing and another....she's not really had the time ever since the marriage...."

Mum doing adequately herself "....and the good part is they want the marriage to happen as early as possible.....Mr.Spew Sr. also hopes that we can arrive on a date as soon as possible and start making the necessary arrangements, you know"

and on....and on...and amazingly....even more ...on....and the best part is, they finish their cups of tea, and look fabulously content with the whole exchange....having divested deeply inane content onto each other, They hug and they part.

Tea, anyone?

How are preparations....and more such

As a race, we are susceptible to change, and one of the changes is usually progress. This can be cut a million different ways but I think its safe to say that each generation improves vastly on the previous one, and is completely dumped on the wayside by the next. All this is fine, but there are some topics which bind these generations together with vines of mind numbing inanity, and one of them, to my utter grief, is weddings.


I am getting married in the next few days, and while I am quite looking forward to marriage in all its mundane fullness, it is the damn wedding which is getting my goat to roast over a slow flame.


"how are wedding preparations going?"


A fairly innocuous question, you might say, and innocuous I might agree, if I was haggling with my tailor a few hours before I am supposed to wear the damn thing and turn out in decorous glory to receive splendorously turned out guests, and badly wrapped gifts.


Not, and I repeat, NOT a full ONE HUNDRED days before the wedding. I just failed to see what on earth I supposed to be doing a full three months before the wedding. To me, my wedding prep was dusting off a suit and logging online to book some travel tickets.


and this question doesn't come a few dozen times. It comes in five times a day, day in and day out from every one...old tottering grandfolk, neighbors walking their dog, from the hot girl in tight tee you used to go jogging for, ex girlfriends from whom you were hoping for a "one for old times sake" rout in bed, bosses in the middle of appraisal meetings....it just doesn't stop.


And I still haven't picked up my suit from the tailors.

STBOTB #3...About spewnotes..circa 2007

"Spewnotes, in no way, intends to educate, inform, propagandize or entertain and aims (using the term loosely and thereby implying much less work), at best, to be something approaching a rambling read."

- Spewnotes,
March 7, 2005

Its been almost three years and I still talk utter bollocks.....

the day Eli spewed..

Cheers, Eli.

http://eliamma.blogspot.com/2006/12/so-spew-spewedand-how.html

The Namboodiri Principle

This gem from the effervescent, brilliant Oog - his invention, his glory, my site until he comes up with his own. The Namboodiri principle, evolved in the form of this refined tale, hides a stunning truth - a truth which could, to begin with, help the cause of world peace in no small measure by getting a lot of people laid.


On a sunny humid evening in eastern Kerala, Namboodiri and his friend were walking around a village quite peacably, talking about matters that two young men would on a sunny humid evening in eastern Kerala, when they saw a mahout with a majestic-looking elephant. Looking at the magnificent beast with its lolling walk, Namboodiri felt a sudden desire to own the elephant.
After a brief conference with his friend (who doesn't really have a substantial role in this tale) who owned most of the vigorous head-shaking content in that private dialogue, Namboodiri went to the mahout -


"Good sir, Would you consider giving your glorious elephant to me?"


"No."


Namboodiri walked away content.


Truly....a glorious tale.

minds of married people..

Saturday afternoon at Pecos. In the middle of a rather vigorous session of beer and various animals cooked in a variety of ways but mainly beer, S leaned forward and queried earnestly "Isn't it strange how married couples tend to hang out with married couples? Isn't it even stranger that even newly married couples are more at ease with married couples?"
Oog burped "yes ra! she's got it! ...for the past four minutes, I've been wondering how it is that I like my wife so much and why it is that i hate being married to her! and yes..this here is it! It is because married couples have to hang out with only married couples! why does it have to be like that?" (oog would have been happier meeting hola-hola dancers from taikwiki, preferably in the nude but that doesn't take away from the question, does it?)

About twenty minutes later, I knew why.

I'd love to say this was due to concentrated thought and gazillion calculations of multiple scenarios i ran in my head at the speed of gossip, but no. A rather smashed but severely tickled Nari started howling in my ear. Howling is what Nari normally does and that, in itself, was insufficient to draw the interest of my own rather pickled senses. No..it was that he howled 0.026 mm from my ear was what probably did it. But moving on, he proceeded to relate a telephonic conversation he'd just had with Soda (who at that moment in time was a picture of content respectability, walking as he was hand in hand with his wife of four years on a romantic evening in Bandstand).

"Maccha...Soda's gonna be a DAD!!" I choked - I'd met soda four days ago, and I'd be damned if a drunken and unmarried Nari managed to worm this intimate info out of himin a 3 minute conversation! "how do you know?" I barked at him having trouble seeing his face which was fading in and out. Probably cos I was waving my fist at it.

Apparently this is the conversation that happened between Nari and Soda.

"Sodaaaaaaa....&!@&@%.....@%$@%$@%$........&@%@$$...^&@!#@@....how are you, ra?

"Umm..hey..taking a walk n bandstand with my wife. Wha-"

"%$@##!!! we spent 7 years in college passing our 4 year course!! Good times, eh ?"

"umm..sure..yeah man.."

2.5 min conversation. Nari definitely with larger share of voice.

Nari: " Okay ra soda %$##, you take care, %$%$...and yeah! HAVE SAFE SEX TONIGHT!" (giggle giggle)

Soda: "um."

Nari: "OR MAYBE NOT! JUST HAVE SEX" (howling howling)

Soda hangs up.

Nari says"Maccha...Soda's gonna be a DAD".

Day in the life of a rural marketeer....

"Glow signs!" I exclaimed! "bloody glow signs -its what we'll do!".

I looked at someone who is probably the most important person in my life right now - Mr.S- a world-weary businessman who also doubles up as my distributor in his less-sane
frames of mind. We were discussing some brand signage formats -basically my company name in font size 17,745 - for our village dealers. The kind of paradoxes and existential issues for our business the last phrase raises are worth peering into, in fact, the entire business is a bit questionable,if you ask me, but considering I chucked up obscene dollar money to do this, I am perhaps less than adequate as a rational questionee.

"Glow signs?" Mr. S. mutters. "Glow signs? in villages that are lucky if they have a cock and a lame buffalo to distract them?" He's gettin' that look again in his eye, and I am about to tell him as much. "Where do you think you are retailing? Bangkok? or MG road?" he rails.
"You may have something there" I concede instead while he rolls his eyes in a gesture I don't exactly approve of.

We decide on cloth banners, and order another round of tea.

Always a woman to me..

It’s a lazy diwali afternoon and I think I’m having an affair. No...not one of those iffy "is-there-or- isn’t-there" kinda nothing attractions. There definitely is...and an intensely physical one at that. I have no idea how it started to get to this. Its like most other things of this sort, just a queerish turn of events and no one’s really to blame. Of course not everyone is going to see it that way.

But let me start from the beginning..

I was introduced to her, ironically enough, through my dad. And like most things dad has introduced me to (The godfather at age 9, beer, atheism, cars and stories of his wild days), this one turned out to have out far-reaching consequences but damned if I realized it at the time.

She seemed completely awkward to me at first…on the verge of "uncool". Unfashionably voluptuous (and how!), she was loudmouthed and opinionated, but (and I say this from hindsight) pretty smooth when she wanted to be. She certainly wasn’t trying to be at her smooth best when I met her, and in a weird sort of way, i think that’s what did it for me in the first place.

In god’s well-intentioned but screwed up way of working, she moved into my city, and on the ground floor of my Bangalore apartment within 2 weeks of that. .. She'd had it tough, i guessed, and she looked completely so out of place that I had to rescue her. She condescended to yield to my tentative offer of helping her out. I introduced her enthusiastically to my friends, my colleagues, with unsurprisingly little success. She just wasn't the bubbly sophisticate they were used to. well..one thing led to another, and we started spending a lot of time together. She seemed to have some work in places close to my office, and we started commuting together – you know how it is –you slip into a routine like that where you wake up and go to work along with someone, and soon you find yourself waking up and going to work because of her.

Things started going kinda outta control after that, and I started dreaming about her, started buying her new stuff so she could look good, feel better about herself and fit into my life. I guess things were always simmering between us and we entered the zone without really meaning to. It really hit me today how far we’d gone when I realized I didn’t care who knew about us…today …2 pm on an overcast diwali afternoon in the basement parking lot of our apartment..our first meeting in sometime due to my recently hectic schedule and my home trip (which i cut short to get back to her) .. slipping my hand into hers and drawing her close ...it seemed like what we were meant for..she responded immediately…..unusual for her….but she seemed like she was waiting for me..her body warm, and her curves waiting to draw me into her. We held each other like that ..the only sounds being her gentle gasps, and my own head rushing so loud that I couldn’t..didnt want to hear anything else..I held her close…and I wanted to hear her breathe all day long…

Its been an hour since I got back…am lying back on my bed…my body still aching pleasantly…still throbbing from our intense time together..the smell of her on my fingers….traces of her on every part of me……and in my head thinking…”what the hell am I doing?” …and as I started to write this…my attempt at catharsis, i guess….I am thinking about all of you….all of you in your snug lives...who’ll read this..and am thinking that she might be just a 350cc bullet to all of you….but she’ll always be a woman to me….

Blogging and one track minds

Man -it feels good..not quite an honest-to-god you're-a-sod-and-god-help-you argument...but at least the nucleus of one! I think did it make apparent from my last post how i feel about the feel-good bubble around blogging (by users and readers) and its making blogging as exciting as trip to the ol' confessional.

Getting back to the nub of the matter - questioning the existence of women and one-track minds - well heck. I am all for sexually liberated women, and god knows living the turbulent teenage years (read not laid yet) was made possible by fantasies of running into precisely such women. Its only upon much reflection (and many failed attempts at seducing women in bars, bus stops and pretty much everywhere else ) that one reached the enlightened (and painful)realisation that there was more to this getting laid thing than met the eye. Even the Nymphos I met (yep I have..two so far..and yep..i got lucky) had a depressing story behind their (to put it mildly) "strong" sex drives.

Sitting now upon this worked-hard-at knowledge, and almost hitting an inflection point where one can almost look at women without seeking to "get some", comes an "insightful" revelation that women are prone to base instincts as the proverbial caveman, and that "all I want is a good fuck" is not merely a line out of My Secret Garden!

So, L's and G's, all that irritates me is the possibility that we are being taken for a royal ride, and not least because some money is being made out of our gullibility!

Blogs

What with the diwali break and rather easily-satisfied powers-that-be at work, I have been casting some thought (in a loose sense of the word) on various kinds of blogs I have come across.

I did post my rather acid thoughts on one of them (girl with a so-called one track mind) but this time I am going to try and categorize them, which should fulfill the rather dubious objective of making stereotyping easy!

Yeh Hain Meri Kahaani: well..its almost self explanatory but this type is the most common, differentiated only by the style and personality of the author. Usually is heart-tugging fare dealing in emotion of various degrees from unrequited love to sick puppies. (think Karan Johar!)
Often starts with a theme (usually quite informative) but jumps soon to the nub of the matter - raw emotion. I think one reason why people love (writing as well as reading) YHMKs is because emotion is the most common denominator across cultures and personalities. AW's blog is the best example of this, and probably the classiest as well. Following close behind in its emotional wattage is Munna who is more inward looking and lot more raw than AW but am sure will mature into using emotion in the same subtly flambuoyant way as AW does! He does score higher on his insights and EVERYONE'S gotta read the potato post!

Personally though, I find YHMK blogs exhausting at most times, and sometimes mundane. They dont wow me with their writing or their insights. (We talked about this, AW!). On its positive, it is consistent, (for people who like that) and some -amazingly feel-good!

A similar-but-not-quite type is the type which uses its blog to articulate personal journeys, and usually involves active interaction with the visitors (classic c0-creation for the Marketing inclined!) and its more communal than AW's morally uplifting yet inaccessible tripe!
SB, EU i think are more on these lines, while Nishant's is too - although he won't admit it (about the people bit)!

A different type of blog - still YHMK but far more pleasant is the type which uses the author's personality and tastes more as a backdrop to more material insights, views and thoughts. I define this type for Daddy's blog. Daddy's been a favourite from his first post and very easy on the eye for its relaxed manner and unselfish views- and for how it almost always leads to a new piece of knowledge while connecting with some part of you. For some strange reason, I tend to think of this blog as more masculine - and that's probably daddy's persona coming through - his ambition, sport and bike-riding leanings!

My all time fave type - and this is for sheer quality of imagination, writing and depravity is the theme blogs and what rocks for me is it is outward looking, sometimes entertainingly self-deprecating. This is what I'd like my own blog to be like but I think i suck at it. Calling Betelgeuse - is definitely by far the best I've read and I usually find - no matter when I pick it up, myself reading up all the posts that I've missed and some bygone ones - just for laughs!
Its dark, its sleazy and it uses the author as one extreme of insanity and any one else who shows up (and for a change they do!) as far more normal, and the entire mish-mash is rip-roaringly funny!

I guess what this post's gonna do is draw reactionary reviews of my sodding-effort-at-blogging. :-) Heck-its a free country..or that's what they'll have us believe at any rate!

Women and one-track minds?

It's been irritating me -this one...not least cos it goes against all my carefully constructed theories about women. But girl with a one track mind is being called insightful because of precisely that - it goes against EVERYONE'S well-constructed theories!

"Here" ,the world seems to say, "is a woman with a sex drive and proud of it. No touchy-feely (no pun here -editor) emotions for this one". Well - methinks this chick is taking us for a ride. Hey -we've all met women who enjoy sex and not too shy to admit it- but no one -at least in my "normal people" sphere seems to think of sex ALL the time.


Its weird - its just a carefully built porn bubble for the refined man - no never-ending cleavage or red bathing suits here- its sophisticated, well-worded sex interspersed with shades of a feminist movement but its still got sweaty bodies and enough references to wetness to make you think sexually depraved women instead of a leaky tap next time you hear the word. Gotta think lowest common denominator, mate!


Bosh - No one's got a one track mind- not even those geniuses in school who built 30,000 Cd libraries of porn. Its possible that women may be able to detach sexual feeling from emotional but that's only in cases where a woman has had a rough ride with fickle relationships, and per se has HAD to do so! Have to hear the women's opinion on this!

STBOB #2: More was to come but for Karen..

I can't even begin to tell you the viciousness of the reaction to my couch theorizing. I, for one, was so happy with the pregnant nascence of my effort that all i could think of was how much more i could add to all that I said about women last time. And then she happened. A precocious little thing with too many opinions, she got into a virtual catfight demanding an explanation for my simplistic views.

Her points and (probably most of those who do end up reading what i put up yesterday).
1. Are things so black and white?
2. Is everything men do designed to "get some"?

Well. its like this. (its what i told her and i hope it makes sense to you too).

Its like you land in Mazgumma city and want to know everything about it! In your enthusiasm, you'll probably run out of steam ten miles out of the airport, hobbling as you would be between every nook, cranny and cafe you see.

Now if i gave you a sheet of paper that said
1. Mazgumma Palace: 10 miles out North west. (Take a tonga)
2. Mazgumma Museum: Behind airport. Walk.
3. Mazgumma Park: 6 miles south of airport. Its twenty square miles. Pack lunch.
4. Mazgumma strip bar: Look in the direction of the big bear, when it gets dark. Look for the Neons. Minimum Tip charge: 10 Mazgus. Waitress bum pinch on the house.

Well, you bet that's not all there is to Mazgumma city, (or to women if you've missed the point i'm so laboriously making) but you get my drift.

When it comes to understanding new landscapes - take in the broad highlights first up, and then go looking for that tiny place, hidden away three miles out at Mozbulka Market, bang opposite Zenot bookstore, that serves Mazgumma's best panzanika.

To all accusations of simplicity, that what i have to say. An understanding of the subtleties need to follow a basic understanding. A rather splendidly made point, i think.

(STBOB #1) Women

For all the literature in the world on women, there is still some scope for improvement. There are still millions of unmated men and women out there. All because they dont know the rules. Strange but True.

Well, in this edition of spewnotes, i try and cast some light on the matter. My locus standi? fuck knows. At any rate, here we go.

Women switch between two basic states, and if men have a hope of getting any, they need to cater to two of these all the time. Yes. All the time.

Woman to Child (W2C)....(HEIL THE HENPECK)
Basically, a Mom state. Very strongly defined in most women, its a simple state of mind needing to arrange the world in a pre-determined order. (The order itself is common to most women, but let's not get into that.) All you need to do is fall in with this order For eg: Bathing before Sunday lunch or some such.

If you try and be ultra-cool, and want your space, be careful. You may get it. For me, and most guys, i suspect, this is the state most difficult to get used to. It is like getting your maleness pounded into flaccid submission. Painful.

There is an upside to this though. (This note, written as it is being by an enlightened male, aims to share the cheerful state of existence of "been there, done that".)

If you time it right, you might get your fortnight's laundry done at bristling pace by woman in the throes of getting her world to look exactly like the way she wants it to look. All you have to do, is observe the frequency of above state. (This is very specific to each woman, but you might find that this eruption usually happens at the time of your favourite game on TV. You see, finding you in the middle of bristling constructive activity takes the fizz out of the whole exercise. Finding you somnolent watching "John Snead's amazing pool trickshots" is much more satisfying. Who said women werent logical?). Well anyways, it is important to let the woman squeeze as much satisfaction out of the entire episode. If this means that you hold on to your TV Couch, against all your gentlemanly instincts, do not budge. Secondly, try and leave all your unwashed laundry / cigarette butts / expired porno in one massive pile. Concentrate on the game. You'll find a squeaky clean den and a happily martyr like woman the next day.

(NOTE: A dangerous refinement - actually trying to incite this "W2C" state, when too lazy to do your laundry- is something best left to married men.)

Woman To Dad(W2D)...(CUDDLE THE COBRA)
A Child state. At times, the best part of women, its the state where they want to be hugged and protected. It brings out the Male instinct, and is a bit like alcohol in that respect. It fills you with that warm woozy feeling, suffusing every fibre of your being with a warm glow, makes you think you are the First Emperor, when all you are really doing is dissolving your insides in some harsh liquids and killing some brain cells. Women, really, are hardly any different.

Of course, there exists this particular brand of refined male, who having been through countless encounters of a similar type, and having had to deal with the aftermath, now know what this is. A heaven-sent opportunity to make out. And that's what it is. Just follow steps 1-3.
1. Do the cuddle.
2. Don't solve problems.
3. Whisper sweet nothings (And that's not as hypocritical as it sounds. Might sound like a paradox to males, but it is really a meaningful routine that works for women. A bit like the psychiatrist's couch).
4. Make out

Wonderful approach. Highly recommended.

Of course, there have been well-intentioned men, who have dismissed above approach as farcical. There are few of them left to tout the positives of their approach. (Most of them are either dead, single or temporarily gay). But some hieroglyphs have yielded the fact that their approach may have been not as wise as they had hoped.

Apparently, They followed the following steps:

1. Cuddled. (Honestly, this is instinctive)
2. Listened. (Apparently, this is where the disaster began.)
3. Reacted. ( One of the rare moments which was satisfying to both parties concerned)
4. Set out a plan to solve the problem (Ouch)
5. Went to bed with a plan and determined clench of the jaw.
6. Woke up to find woman considerably less victimized than she seemed the night before."AH! she's being brave! Attagirl." (Poor man. Clueless.)
7. Met woman the next evening. Expecting to be gazed at with loving adoration. Almost expecting the Final Token Of Male superiority - The Blow Job. Things dont go quite according to plan. Woman arrives somewhat peevish. Allegations of "running my life" ; "control freak" ; "obsessive" pile on late through the night.
8. Next morning, finds said male run over by bus. (Apparently didn't read the sign "Crossing the road while Wondering about why-girlfriend-dumped-me is Strictly Prohibited.")

On the whole, its a state that's responsible for keeping most relationships and marriages going.

These are the two states, that i like to think, are the ones that one needs to be aware of, if one is looking to get some. There are other more superficial states. Periods, Marriages and Engagements, that bring out some interesting shades in women.

We'll get into that sometime. Its late and i gotta get home!

STBOTB

Between you and me and our loyal viewership of about three people, I have to admit I love the stuff i write. I know I know....it just isn't fashionable to do that these days. But I spend hours going over my stuff, and to my incisively unbiased eye, some of my writes are truly magnificent.

In fact so good that....well... read on..

" For hundreds of weeks, spewnotes has been spewing away touching issues that affect us deeply..from broken hearts to torn pockets, nose hairclipper maintenance to moody eggs.... and now..spewnotes returns to you in a unique special edition called "Scraping the Bottom Of the Barrel in Spewnotes (STBOTB)" which will carry those spews that have received the strongest reactions, in no way discriminating between positive (of which, remarkably enough, there were few), and negative (where we've had a problem of plenty) reaction-inducing posts.

We, however will try to factor in the social upliftment angle to spewnotes, and apart from unintentional entertainment, we choose spews that carry serious views that may a remote chance of redeeming humanity at some later date. Launching the STBOTB.."

Insightful Bollywood

"Tum Sarkar ko maarna chaahthe ho ya Subhash Naagre ko maarna chaahthe ho?
Dono alag alag hain, Vishraam…..Subhaash Naagre ek insaan hain ……aur Sarkar ek soch."
- "Sarkar", 2005


Wow. I mean..wow.

I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

This from a song By Sandi Thom - couldn't have put it better myself.

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In '77 and '69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When the head of state didn't play guitar
Not everybody drove a car
When music really mattered and when radio was king
When accountants didn't have control
And the media couldn't buy your soul
And computers were still scary and we didn't know everything

When pop stars still remained a myth
And ignorance could still be bliss
And when god saved the queen she turned a whiter shade of pale
My mom and dad were in their teens
And anarchy was still a dream
And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail

When record shops were still on top
And vinyl was all that they stocked
And the super info highway was still drifting out in space
Kids were wearing hand me downs
And playing games meant kick arounds
And footballers still had long hair and dirt across their face

I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.


Wonder what our song will be forty years on.

Another one from susie..

Unbeknownst to Susie, the last post is doing the rounds, and in pitches in Daddy with another one from her in her Dilbertian mood...


"am not doing too much!!!
Still following the policy...look busy, take it easy!
Have tons to do, but no enthu!"

She's rich, that one!

Susie....

Susie is not usually big on spouting truisms, but this one was too rich for me to let go.

" ........and howz work going?"

" Oh the same old deal! you know? Meet clients - act intelligent......Meet Boss - act stupid, Meet colleagues - act competent..."

I think this is what is going to be my career's epitaph.