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No points for guessing

Well most of the time which I spend on the shuttle bus which is definitely much, much longer than the actual flight time, I spend pondering about what exactly to write because when am thinking am not sleeping, which basically rules out the fact that I can't fucking miss my flight. But, given my given state, the state where there nicotine is absent from my system for more than 3 hours does not present a pretty picture. Think that is why that 'fugly' ('fugly' here does not mean fat + ugly, it means fucking ugly, so ugly that if she spreads her legs and shouts out my name porn star style I still won't be caught dead with her in the same room, same planet is just too exaggerated) at the check in counter.

Anyway, I realized since I have clocked in more domestic air miles than Lalu Prasad Yadav (being the railway minister, don't suppose flying would be such a good idea of PR exercise), it is time for me to educate the fucking ignorant nincompoops who seem to bump into me (something must be suggesting that I am one of them), so here goes, listen carefully because I am not definitely not going to keep dropping gyan bombs like these…

  • First and foremost…IT IS NOT FUCKING COOL TO BUM CIGARETTES OF PEOPLE, even if you shared the same womb for all I care, go get your own cigarettes. Stop bumming cigarettes of me.
  • When they announce that the flight so and so is going to be boarding do not fucking run and stand in front of the gate like they showing Pamela Anderson sucking Tommy Lee off. Show some fucking class, its fucking aero plane, not a fucking Bombay local.
  • It is so not fucking cool to cut lines when you are standing for security check.
  • Will let you in on a secret; always insist on emergency aisle seats, they are the best in the house. Some chuth air lines like Indigo will fucking charge extra for those lovely bum warmers.
  • Try not to fucking hog the arm-rest during flight

Well that is all I can think about. Though I was actually thinking that I will write about this new epiphany which stuck me couple of weeks back but never actually gotten to fleshing it out, remind me when am at the Mumbai airport, will sit and finish that theory, if you are wondering when exactly to fucking remind me, how is fucking 6 tomorrow morning sound, FYI, the theory has got a name… it's called "Waterloo Women". I am beginning to hate these early morning flights, though I know what will make me fall into love with them, get a limo drop at the special drop zone (which is about 25 steps away from the departure gate), walk into the premiere check in counter (now that is going to be awesome). Ah, business class…one day soon…

Fucking I know why the smoking withdrawal is so fucking severe this time around. I got my hands stuck inside 4 different pots and trying to get cookies out of all 4 jars without getting caught. What the fuck am I talking, well let's see…I got 3 projects going on which are not mine, but I need to work on them anyway, am travelling for mine today, and then apart from all this hectic work deadlines, which I have no fucking idea how the rest are going to deliver on, but anyways, this is not even the tip of the ice berg on which Leonardo Di Caprio and Kate Winslet went at it like mad fucking bunnies (you know the hand sliding against the frosted window was probably the defining cinematic moment for all 6th graders, and opened their horizon as to what porn really was all about, hands sliding down frosted windows…anyway…digressing here…withdrawal does that to you). Like I was saying, apart from work I got 3 exams coming which means am basically fucked for all the 3 weeks of October. Which means that I have to complete about 4-7 chapters every single night, go to office, do some work (notice, how going to office is not related to doing some work), sleep and then study again. This grueling boot camp has already begun, and it is even more difficult since I was washed over with applications from women who wanted to sit and meticulously detail my time table, it really was a tough decision trying to shortlist people from the zilch number of applications which I got. So, basically here is the bottom line, I am fucked…not the fun way…though seems like I still haven't lost my touch (but, fuck the old age is catching up with my wild partying days…sigh!).

I NEED A FUCKING SMOKE…AND COFFEE TO GO ALONG WITH IT…I WANT ALL YOU STINGY BASTARDS WHO BUMMED CIGARETTES OFF ME AT AIRPORTS TO RETURN THE FAVOR NOW. Ungrateful fucks.

 

Comments

Anonymous said…
liked ur blog!never stop writing....Best of luck for exams!
24/09/2008, 12:07
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