Deep.. err Stuff

Ah, the sight of my beautiful keyboard without the thoughts of quality controlling words! It is a blissful moment in time, completely worth savoring.

So since that bit is over with, let's proceed with thoughts of the day.

#1: If it's a beautiful Tuesday morning when you find yourself waiting for the weekend to arrive, you're in deep shit.

#2: If you think of shit, or something shitty and don't feel like laughing, then you are in deep shit. Or that you are constipated. Or both.

#3: If you get your paycheck and are still not happy, then again... you are in deep shit. Or actually, the guy who made your cheque was stupid to not include your middle name while writing it. So now, you can't get the money you painstakingly did not work for. Either way, you're still in deep shit.

Okay, the next one's easy.

#4: If you get into a train and cannot get out on your stop, you are in....... err.. Mumbai during peak rush hour. Or you are thinking about some mental female. And of course, you are in deep shit!

#5: If you can only think about work even in your sleep, and in the process, you can't sleep, again, the shit pit gets deeper. Because

a) Your bloody creativity is gone for a good old toss, bugger!

b) You begin to stutter in front of the cute female.

And while all this is happening, the mind is secretly knowing exactly what's going on. You're taking life too seriously, specially when no one seems to be coming out of the other end alive. So the grey fellow behind the forehead whispers... "You chut, you're losing your Vitamin C!" And you're like "What??"

You know the worst bit? The worst bit is when parents send you weird pictures with quotes in it, which, according to them, will perk you up. Parents, oh so naive these creatures are. For a change, I won't go into evolutionary biology of why parents are overprotective of their offsprings. Because to be honest, I have no clue of why they are the way they are. I'd rather listen to Justin Bieber than try to dig deeper into the issue. And this is the point where I was supposed to run out of ideas to type down. But I'm now wondering if the movie "Inherent Vice" make any sense without pot. Because strangely enough, Ant-Man did. Mind you, such issues, when brought up in mind while driving behind an utterly incompetent driver is quite obviously an obnoxiously bad idea. Now, I feel I should add more words to my repertoire. How about the word 'Negligee'? It's what ladies usually wear when at home. You've seen it in the movies, and wondered how wonderful it would be if ladies actually wear such things at home. But a little bit of prudent introspection would help you realize that the negligee isn't made for all. I wouldn't go into the specifics of why so, as I ain't no Shallow Hal. But it's funny what our ladies here wear. It's funnier what it is called. Maxi. Err... Again, why? I'll leave the etymology to you.

Disturbing the train of thought again, it's not a good thing to be told that your thought process just doesn't follow a sequence. Specially when you're told so at work by your boss. What hat does is only strengthen your belief in the fact that you are probably autistic, dyslexic, or have some disorder you cannot spell. I even got the spelling of spelling wrong. You see, any place with the remotest probability of double letters, and the brain just over-fires; or actually does not fire at all. What the hel.

Mind you, despite that the mind minds its own business with a mind of its own, it is actually very mindful. You may not be, but don't say that about your grey matter. You see, just because you decided to wag your dick over fire, turning it into an inedible sausage instead of a useful appendage, don't blame the brain. It just stood by to numb your pain after you were done with business as usual. All this is metaphorical, absolutely! But you never know. With us humans, you NEVER know.

If you notice, there's a voice in your head that tells you a lot of things. When that voice screams "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Get your arse out of here", don't listen to it. That's your reptilian cortex(the most rudimentary bit of your brain) speaking.

By the way, in the quest of hilarious novels, I ran into a title called "The sex lives of Cannibals". Nice! Very graphic, very gory and very, very sexy indeed! Not to forget, very painful too. I am yet to read the book, but I am sure it has little to do with sexual habits of the female Preying Mantis. Tempting book title anyway.

And another thing... In Hindi there's a phrase that goes by "हर मर्ज़ की दवा"(Har Marz ki dava), which means 'A cure for everything'. It's surprising how the English speaking population ingeniously circumvented all the anyway incomprehensible Urdu. They just mixed sugar, fat and cocoa in a wide variety of proportions and shut everyone up with good old chocolate. Lesser beings added milk powder to the concoction and gave the world Milk chocolate. And yes, it cures everything. Well, almost.