The secret source of humour is not joy, but sorrow.
-Mark Twain

Humour and good taste are contradictions.
Like a chaste whore.
-George Bernard Shaw

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Thursday, October 05, 2006
Statement of Purpose

Dear WaterHog,
    This is the first time I've apologized to anyone online. I am writing this because I cannot look at you in the eyes without feeling bad. I am probably the most selfish, most inconsiderate, most idiotic, most stupid, most self-centred homo sapien ever to walk this world. I am in addition to all the above the worst best-friend too.
    As the cliche goes, I should not have said what I said and should not have did what I did. I am terribly sorry. Yesterday, I had gone to Subway for dinner and ordered Chicken Teriyaki. Involuntarily, I ordered two. After making them, I turned back and found that you were not there. To pay for them.
    I paid for them myself and ate it alone. Every bite reminded me of the grossly stupid jokes that you used to crack and the way I politely used to laugh at them, the bread choking me in the process and the way you used to slap my back to save me, like you were the dhobi's assistant or something.
    I miss you, dude. And your wallet.
    Last evening, I went to Dor. I missed your translation. I could not make head nor tail of the movie. I laughed at the jokes at all the wrong places when nobody else were even smiling. I was embarassed very much. I could almost feel the itching hands of my neighbour wanting to throw me out. I slid down in my seat wondering why I ever came. I ran out two minutes before the titles ran down.
    Even now as I am sitting, typing, I can still smell your perfume-masked sweat, when you used to sit behind me on my Scooty trying out your Cuban excercises. Ah! The times we used to evade flyovers because you were too heavy! The times we used to fill fuel for twenty five bucks and give him only twenty, only to find out that we had actually given him a fifty. The times we used to show our fingers up at the traffic policemen and get caught by the Sergeant at the next traffic signal! The times we used to...&@#@%#!.. It was so, so, so much fun.
    Your skin, your touch, your... Hey!?? Hold a sec. What am I saying...? Eeeew. No, no. That's not what I meant. No, no. I meant... Never mind what I meant.*
    Hmmm.... I do not know what else to say, man. I like you so much. I am very sorry and will make sure that the next time I hurt you it will be because I beat you in toe-wrestling and not because I said something about your would-be relatives. I said so for your good only, yaar. But I am feeling very bad. I must have thought before saying anything like that. I will do anything to make up. Even give up watching ftv for a week. Anything, man; anything.
    Just three words from me.
     I am sorry.
    Errr....three more words.
     I miss you.
    Errr.... three more..
     And your wallet. ;)


*must be what they call the 'Brokeback Mountain hangover'.

Currently listening to:
FutureSex / LoveSounds
By Justin Timberlake

Currently worming into:
An Ordinary Person's Guide to Empire
By Arundhati Roy

Just watched and regretted:
The General's Daughter
Staring John Travolta

Posted at 04:43 am by sirpy


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