Well, it's Friday again. I am trying to pep-up myself. Wrote a sad post. Felt sad reading it. So, I am not posting it atleast at this time of the earth's cycle.
Well, to start with, I was just pondering that behind every Sita dwells a Rita. In short, there lies a bitch behind every woman. It depends on person to person and it is time, situation and company bound. Sometimes it is hidden behind the facade of polished mannerisms but it's there.
Some things cannot be changed like how women are good at keeping secrets. We just keep it together. I am saying this because I am in a mood to do exactly what I have been discussing. Yes, all bloggers do not always speak the truth. Otherwise, all we have to do is ask our M.Ps to blog in parliament. This I am saying to save my face after I finish the post.
So, here I go... One of the guys dropped 'J' on the dance floor the other day while dancing 'Lambada' to everybody's laughter, mine included. Poor thing! She was winching in pain later.
At her place I kneeled before her and said this prayer," Our father, who art in heaven. Crush his noble balls in thy holy hands! Amen." There she laughed, again in pain. Added her point, 'if he has one'. Very true, if he has one.
I cannot help sympathising with the guy too. His face sure looked raped embarking himself on the doors of embarrassment as she is one among the lightest girls. Actually if the position is taken correctly that is if the guy keeps his leg in between the girl's (still standing ehem!), lock her arms behind with his elbow, the lady in Shallow Hal(not Gwyneth Paltrow :-) or for that matter our very own Tun Tun could be bended and brought up with ease.
Now, I wonder why people who cannot even move their ass come to learn dance? Some of the guys do not even know to dance at chance. Are they 'Sati-Satyavan', the male counterpart of 'Sati-Savitri' that they cannot afford to stand close to a 'Parayee Aurat'? As if we are asking them to marry us!
Some Software Engineers do not realise that they are born and bred only to be Software Engineers. Mr. Fix-it, you design, code, test, bug, debug but please don' t ping pong in the name of Latino. Hey, that's my breast you are talking to. If I catch the eyes and smile, there you miss your steps. Nincompoop!
Adding salt to their injury (or was it mine?) was this female who came in a spaghetti top, voluptuous to the extent of looking fake, moving the moves and targetting her preys. Not my batch though. Every guy her batch worth his pants waited his turn. Poor souls! At the most they can hold her hands and waist. Water water every where but not a drop to drink!
Now, I get the forwarded images of Miss Rai and I delete them mercilessly. She was just another face but ever since I became single, she seems to be growing prettier by the day. Bitch! God was in a hurry while creating me I guess. Lo! Pamela smiles. What is the hullabaloo over a pair of silicons? Whaaa? TOI said she removed? So, you too believe in authenticity? No, lady my point is what's yours is yours and what's mine is mine. I just wish they were my brains to help me take wiser decisions in life.
What a relief! Now, let me go back to the etiquette of public speaking. Hello hello mike testing. Ladies and gentlemen, it's not working. What the f@$*!