Bomb blasts, regicides, kidnaps, extortion, Indians molesting Britons in India, Indians molesting Indians in Britain, Britons molesting Indian kids in ..well, India . . .
"When aye grow aap, I weel make won beeg news channel showing wanly good news."
My niece sure is small(secaand standard C secshan), yeah, Lalu Prasad style thinking, yeah, but that did make sense. Maybe when I become filthy rich, by some stamp paper scam, bribe a politician to raise a tax cut issue in parliament that'll work on my side, hoard up goods when prices are on nitro, ...
We could fuck the machine till the system blows up, or till we blow ourselves up, the machines that we are, and publicize that the world needs change, and do what we do best about terrorism, condemn it. Or, sit in our cushioned merry-go-round chairs, and blog about it.
Lennon sure could imagine a world with no heaven or hell, religion or people, no not even sex.
He had the cojones to. Sugar coated it, he did, to make you think its the most beautiful song in the world, but he meant it. No big deal, everybody say, he sits in an airconditioned room in London, or wherever, writes a song when he has a bank balance bigger than yours, and then sleeps with his wife for a month in public, smoking pot, lifts a couple of fingers and tells you to come to Nutopia. But he did.
Hell, he got shot at too. Some mofo comes at you with a derringer and drills a couple of bullets into your appendix, shouting God Fuck You or something like that, in some language you didn't care to study when you were in school. Not much you can do about it, yeah. Or blow you up with lil lakshmi-vedis targeted from a mobile phone.
Then you sit at home, schools and colleges closed for a few days, and swear at the government, swear at the sniffer dogs, swear at the havaldars, swear at your neighbour, swear at his mom who lives in Kerala... Life is screwed up, your pet parrot soon picks up your language and now can talk foul-mouthed shit in sixteen different tongues, your neighbour loses his temper and gets a heart attack yelling at his eight year old kid for flunking in his social studies exam, the sniffer dog dies of fatigue, that after biting half a dozen people who didn't realize that the dog was rabid, and the police blow their stupid whistles and breaks apart every couple or meeting of three or more in the street... but that's not the point I'm trying to make.
What the fuck is my point anyway?
#Sammok
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13 comments:
i understand sam... i really do....
*smone get him to mental assylum please!!!
:O
ayee theenk that yonly the last part made saance.
sam! that cycle accident did somethin to ur brain :O
@lava : go die
@ jubli : True, now go die.
@darthy : what cycle accident?
Go die.
sam its high tym u met a pshyciatrist..............!!*keeps a worried face*
Exactly man all of us blabber a lot.But when did we ever reach a point?
Krithika, anonymous goofer. Go die.
Akash : Exactly the point I'm trying to make. Now you go die too. B-)
sammok!
go die! :-)
HDjfzsdfbhDAFnzxgbASFqWEANNKMYDGTARET.
Arjun! Now you see things my way! :)
'me.' : erm, hi.
Erm, I kinda forgot the whole point anyway, but thanks for the insight.
Yes, I love coffee, or whatever you're drinking. :|
Your point to me seems to vent it out..
thats ok.. but ur perspective is interesting.. specially when u say the parrot would pick up your foul language.. and talkin 14 othrs :)
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@workhard - :)
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