Drink Coffee..

Kuttur and Koo

As spring cleaning fever hit me late in spring, i decided to clean amoung other things, the trash can, drenching it in 409. For reasons unknown to me, i decided to dry the black plastic inner bucket!?, of the stainless steel trashcan, in my balcony. Weighing under two pounds, the black inner is about 3 feet high and about a feet wide. After wiping it clean, again for reasons unknown to me, i decided to sun bath it in my balcony where it restlessly rested and then restfully raced, till it caught my eyes, a few moon phases and suns later, on a late sunday morning, when i heard the newly married pigeon couple, Kuttur and Koo, flutter around the new house that they had moved into, the clean, disinfected, sun bathed black plastic inner! Again, for reasons unknown to me, Kuttur and Koo liked the plastic inner, which at this point had fallen sideways, and was rolling on the floor aimlessly , but not restlessly, along with the wind, within the confines of my balcony.

Kuttur and Koo, i thought was an interesting couple. But their idea of moving into my forty two dollar trash can, that too in my forty two sq ft balcony, didn't interest me that much. I cited 42 reasons to justify my discontent. Primary one being the potential and inevitable use of trashcan as crapper by Kutter and Koo. I had this uncontrollable itch to drive them out. To my itches content , i stormed into the balcony only to storm back out of it, when i found out that Koo was in the trashcan. After 20 minutes, shouldering an itch which seemed like a six year long itch, i tip toed towards the trash can, a one man demolition squad, euipped with sophisticated modern weapons like trash bag and short brush, manouvering through the rough windy terrains of the balcony. Koo, NOT IN and neither was Kuttur. In a wink and a half of an eye, i emptied the quarter built nest, the twigs and twiglets into the trash bag and brushed the trash can clean and yanked the trash bag, brush, trash can and myself back into my living room as quickly as i could and returned my weapons and trashcan to were it belonged. With a grin of a soldier who is about to receive purple heart for war heriocs, i slouched back into the sofa reading Kinky Friedman. After a few minutes this wondering wandering thought wandered into my mind and became an uncontrollable itch and again to my itches content i went and opened the trash bag to check out the contents of the demolished nest now resting in pieces in the trash bag. There were several twigs, wood chips and dirt and an ear ring and cap of a pen and plastic scrap. Several hundred small pieces, painstaking flown in by Kuttur or Koo, one at a time, from far and near land and for all you know some pieces even would have been imported say for example the italian mahagony wood chip, which was in Kuttur and Koo's living room! I felt guilty and i felt small and i felt small again and felt guilty again and started feeling small and guilty at the same time. Determined to redeem myself from nestocaust, i decided without winking to return the nest back to the way it was in my balcony. To get extra credits i gave the trascan a firm base preventing it from rolling and arranged the the ex-nest back as good as i could. This did not move Kuttur or Koo. Sitting on my neighbours railings Kuttur gave me a feather and so did Koo and refused to move back in. After 6 long days of non-cooperative movement Kuttur and Koo finally moved back in, to my hearts content!

One Eight Seven Seven Four A DRIVE

A great drive. An even greater cause.

You had a bad day

Where is the moment when we need it the most
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
They tell me your blue sky's faded to grey
They tell me your passion's gone away
And I don't need no carrying on
You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You're faking a smile with the coffee to go
You tell me your life's been way off line
You're falling to pieces every time
And I don't need no carrying on
Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
Well you need a blue sky holiday
The point is they laugh at what you say
And I don't need no carrying on
You had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
Sometimes the system goes on the blink and the whole thing it turns out
Wrong
You might not make it back and you know that you could be well oh that
Strong
Well I'm not wrong
So where is the passion when you need it the most
Oh you and I
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
You see what you like
And how does it feel, one more time
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

-Daniel Powter-

Fanaa... F<@{ Naah!

What could you say about the movie, if it makes you want to never watch a hindi movie again, ever in your life. ..and Lord, what is with this thing about a song each before and after every act of sneeze, fart and defecation, in the movie? Even more disgusting is all the great reviews for the movie by the emotional fuck wits, pardon my "english".

For the assault on an average humanbeing's senses with trash of the kind of "Fanaa" the Producers and Directors of the movie should be treated as terrorists of the entertainment world, "aathank vaadies" or atleast called "tha'ng vaadies of bollywood" and should be banned for life from making such movies. Alternately, what would be even better is to have them watch their own movies three times a day for seven days.

On the bright side, such movies could be used by intelligence agencies to crack the criminals in captivity and this method could be as effective if not better than chinese water torture, with the added benefit that the agencies using them won't be cited for human rights violation. That said, may be, MAY BE, the producers and directors of the kind should infact be encouraged to make such movies, with liberal funding provided by Indian defense ministry and those movies could be used by RAW as an effective tool in the interrogation process of hard to crack criminals, in captivity. Small snippet( no longer than 10 milli second) of these kind of movies could also be used in TV ads as a crime detterant, with a warning which says "Watching a full dose of these movies could be injurious to brain for people who have an IQ greater than or equal to their age, and should only be done under the supervision of a certified criminal investigator. If this Movie Torture Tool, hereby referenced as MOTTO' ( no offense to fat people) infact works out well (theoritically onetime/repeated watching of MOTTO movies raise the frustration to such a level that criminals under investigation would break down and choose to let the secret out rather than watching MOTTO), Defense department could export MOTTO and and President McDumbass's regime would be delighted to buy it in boat loads in hopes of cracking the secrets out of prisoners in Guantanamo bay and the money earned by the sale should be used to buy functional MIGs which doesn't kill our pilots there by caring for the lives of the men/women who fight for us in need. The non-functional MIGs should be gifted to the directors and producers of the MOTTO movies and should be send off on scenic tour on those MIGS to uninhabited areas of Siachen and after the MIG crashes, should be awarded Param Veera Chakra.

Smile please, It improves your face value.