Saturday, 31 January 2009

Who are you?

I know I am asking a lot, and I am what you would call a narcissistic, self obsessed SOB and hence I am greatly intrigued by people who seem to be dropping and reading whatever that is I write from time to time on a regular basis. And like any fan of Sherlock Holmes I tend to make educated guesses, and most of them like Sherlock Holmes tend to be pretty much bang on, but then again he is somebody who is only challenged by Byomkesh Bhakshi.

So I ask you, all you lurkers (the one from Malaysia, the recent reader from Haryana and many others from Bangalore and Mumbai) to let me know who you are, what I (the self confessed MCP, narcissistic, self obsessed SOB) am really interested is how bad my writing really is, and do I really have a chance of landing a writing deal… :P

Anyway, since I have addressed that question, there is good news, and about time I should say, communication channels have opened up back home in a remarkable and unexpected turn of events. Though there is still now solid and conclusive news from the job front, I think I should be hearing from them soon. My salary of December should get released in about 2 weeks time, so looking forward to that.

About couple of days back, I shat in my pants, well not intentionally, I was actually intending to fart and I did not realize that I had a weak tummy till that point, so even without pausing the movie I was watching at that point of time I bombed (no pun intended) to the loo. It's been about close to 4 and ½ years since I last did that. The last time I was walking back home after I got dropped by my friends after a night at the pub, I was sizzled out of my senses and I wanted go pee real bad. It is back then I realized that, that there is some sort of relationship with your shit bag and your bladder. And just for the record I would like to say that these are not good/funny/memorable memory. And this is one of those kind of stories you don't really know how to break to your friends or tell them. Nobody knows this story, but it is one of those stories which you want to tell to somebody and find out how to react.

You cannot honestly say that this is one of those routine things which happens and such and such action is what one should have done. So screw me for keeping this under wraps. Anyway, hoping to wake up early tomorrow morning, so that I can go play some cricket and show Mr. Kurian Babykutty (yes! that is his actual last name, Baby and Kutty) that his ball sac does house something fragile.

Cheerios Mate…

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