Sirocco

waves phases and guided particles beyond the outer reaches of the galaxy the light fantastic riding through the universe on a quantum horse. how much does it matter in the end? scientists screaming 'i've got it!' to an accompaniment of a cacophony of disagreement and insults and the creationists calling on their gods to bring down hellfire on this sinful world. and wars burn on, aided by the scientists' accomplices, still killing millions but only now killing the millions we want, no one else (except for a few collaterals). and soon we will burn ourselves out, in a million years or a billion sanity will be restored to the earth by the utter destruction of our form of sentient life. and then? maybe another species, another thousand million years, another holocaust ad infinitum, until this universe's 20 billion or so remaining years run out and entropy sets in. the final 'the end'.

the riders crested the hill. the scene in the little valley below confirmed what their noses had been hinting at for a while now. 'tis a bloody day's work, havalad', said the leader. 'indeed it is, ponce-a-lot.' 'ain't seed nuffin like this in years, sire.' a bundle of rags on two legs spoke. the two mounted men looked down at it - or rather, him, because the unfortunate creature was (more or less) human - with expressions of sheer disgust. 'shut up, baldrick. be quiet while your betters speak.' 'yes do put a plug in it you oaf, some of us are trying to think out here!' more tryin' than thinkin', thought the figure. but he didn't say anything out loud. baldrick nobbsson had spent 11 years as squire and occasional salami (a kind of large sausage, best enjoyed in thin slivers between two slices of white bread) for sirs ponce-a-lot and havalad and he knew when to keep his mouth shut. and when, indeed, to keep it open. his mast...

as someone has posted, sanjaya gaya ! :) of course not before he managed to get himself invited to the white house journalists' dinner. i think he'd make a great bitch for condi rice. they should hook up. in other news, apparently paris hilton hooked up with my man k-fed. must see: k- fed's performance at the n ickelodeon awards. man what a grade-a looooosaarrr! he could possibly be a hip-hop aaron carter. it's so bleddy hot men... and everyone is worried about what may is going to be like. dude, worry about what the next few years are going to be like. global warming is going to take off on a never-before seen scale. so what, you cry, we've got a/c's at home and work. well, the poor don't, and say, have you heard about the whole energy crisis thingie? don't worry, even if you haven't it's coming soon to a town near you. it's truly, truly amazing how freaking myopic everybody is about the whole deal. it's all about gratification no...

come on dude, he's got to go. seriously. he can't sing and he's not even good-looking. he looks like a brown version of the olsen twins. when they were still in full house. and he's as effeminate as barbie in a pink dress and garters. pink garters. it's obvious why his no.1 fans are little girls. look if you ask me (i know you're not, but it's my blog so shut up) it would actually be good for him if he got kicked out. we all know he's got no talent whatsoever. ok maybe just a little, but certainly not enough make a career out of. no charisma whatsoever - you don't look at him and say goddamn, that guy's a rockstar! all he's got is his aww gee i'm such a cutie look. it won't last him longer than one hit. even justin timberlake got over that, and he's actually going somewhere. now he's a sexy-almost-honorary-black-person-yo-homies! boy. i actually like some of his recent hits. so how would it be good for sanjaya if he got kick...

yesterday duddles handed over the april issue of jetwings... with my article in it! yay! it's looking quite good actually, esp with vikrant's pics so anyone flying jet airways in the next month pick it up and check it out. the mag's theme is colours of india and i chose grey - the colour of the mountains, the monsoon, the sea off bombay's coast, the manic construction in all the cities - a canvas that no one notices, but one that lets all the other colours stand out. next month: food trails of india. any suggestions? i've got a couple of thoughts - how about pickle? like a trail of typical pickle-makers across bombay? starting, i think, with the old gujju lady who makes my mom's stuff. also, it would be nice to take a look at marwari pickle-making with deepti's grandmum. and maybe prawn pickle east indian-style. woohoo.

cotton world has some surprisingly good stuff! no seriously, i went there yesterday with deepti and it's changed quite a bit since i last went... of course i must've last gone some 5 years ago or something. and that's all the fault of shopper's stop. there's some pretty decent stuff to be bought in bbay now... but the place that really gets me everytime i pass by is boudoir london. man they have some yummy stuff there. not just lacy & frilly or y'know, crotchless (how much time does that save you anyway and it costs you anticipation, which can be a delicious feeling :D) but also really pretty which is perhaps not the first word you'd associate with lingerie. the world's most outlandish lingerie, however, is probably the stuff on hill road. there's pieces you probably wouldn't see in strange fetish movies. y'know, the ones involving several individuals all at once and quite often several individuals of several species . and defecation and...

the subcontinent - well the subcontinent's biggest nations, atleast - have outdone themselves at the world cup. it's hard to tell whose collective assholes are sagging more because of all the buttfucking, india's or pakistan's. the men in green are staying back in jamaica due to important social engagements with members of the jamaican police force. inzy: bismillah-i-rahman-i-rahim. we are to beeing in troubles sirji? jamaican cop: yaa maan. you have noo idea. inzy: bismillah-i-rahman-i-rahim. we are beeing waiting in hotels. are we in arrested? jamaican cop: noo maan. you jus' bein' aksed to waait whahle wee find out what youse bin doin' wid ol' bob. inzy: bismillah-i-rahman-i-rahim. so how we are beeing in troubles sirji, if we are nots in arrested? jamaican cop: weell leftenant curtly over dere, he found dis bag in mr. mohamed yoosoof's room durin' a randome search. he was lookin' in de drawers - de room's, not mr. yoosoof's - and ...