My blog, I’ve realised, is a load of scat and gas.
Mostly it’s depressing to fully comprehend how little I’ve managed to say through such a barrage of verbiage; for the rest it’s gut-drowning embarrassing.
But before you come bustling in with boisterous good cheer and a great clucking cacophony of protest and sympathy [see how formidably foul my mood is?] consider this:
How much do you really know about my much primped and preened and strutted head?
Hanh?
Be honest.
Gotcha potcha. Ha.
Before you scratch yours and wonder aloud, allow me:
All you really know, and after over a 100 reiterations of the same in as many ways as shit can be pasted on toast, is that it houses a brain which is divided in a left lobe and a right lobe, which by some stroke of genius, yours or mine, you’ve been conned into believing is a singularly extraordinary act of deviance.
The gleaming cherry on top, of course, is the Walt Disney cutesy personality each has.
Bravo H, what a fucking fucking idea.
But do you even know what I think about Bin Laden or Godhra?
Do you know what I think about the UN policy on controlling the spread of Avian Flu?
Do you know what I think about Pratibha Patil’s election to the President’s post?
Do you know what I think about the rising price of diesel?
No Ma’am. You just know that I speak in elaborate parables of shit.
Because honestly, I don’t think about these things. I just skip like a donkey, sing like a toad, hop like a rhino as I bumble heedlessly on this highway, feeling great gushes of overreaching achievement at every arse-analogy I can squeeze through my tear ducts.
So it should come as no surprise that suddenly, with a borrowed perspective that I chanced by on the internet the other day, I’ve become acutely aware of how nothing this is. This Shout. This hollow excrement of noise in cyberspace.
I’m aghast at what you must think. You dear reader, who’s lavished your attention, time and thought on our corner here.
Are you for real?
Or are you a kinky connoisseur of such trembling whiffles of flatulence as I’ve been passing for words here?
No. Don’t answer.
Because either way beloved reader, this is to say: I cherish you. Thank you for all the appreciation. This far into our relationship, I accept you for who you are.
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24 comments:
Wow, I was afraid you were going to quit blogging...then I'd have to hang myself from my ceiling fan. But I'm glad there's plenty more :)
You you ummm you....
UH ah umm
Erm
I shall impart wise advice or should i say advise, bet you know the difference? any which way now the wisdom (Snigger)of course borrowed in the true nature of a cheat who likes to see himself as a improvisionist...
SHIT HAPPENS!
Now shoot me, Oh great one!!!
Ben, someday we'll write a scat episode for Hafrank together, ok?
Pricky, have made a mental note. Thank you.
But...I like the scat and gas you put up here. No, scratch that. I adore it. Much of your writing exhilarates me.
I'm happy there's going to be more.
Goody! here're your complimentary gloves and gumboots, Liz.
Uh. What's this all about? An excrement of noise in cyberspace?
Hardly.
You know, one can be pertinent without writing about politics. I'd go far as to say one can be a terrific commentator despite avoiding politics. Especially during these times.
And that's what you are. A terrific commentator - a beloved writer.
Don't change, H. You and your dynamism are miracles in this jaded blogosphere.
Cheers!
luvvie, I've not popped in for awhile and yes, for a few seconds there I was holding my breath for the dreaded announcement that you've had enough of dissing out scat and gas & that you were gonna call it a day and quit blogging.
So phew that there's more to come!
PS. I'm about to meet the lurvely Lizza and the wily Houseband soon. Fancy a trip to Boracay anytime soon??? C'mon dahling! You will complete the picture!
so what do you think of bin laden and godhra?
good! But on which side will you make the note on?
:D
Ummm...I did gather that ur right lobe and left one work well in cohesion.
And ha ha well you scratch my back I scratch yours! ;)
Migs, it has taken me time to recover from this most glowing comment. My nose has possibly billowed all the way to Manila, but I am glad to report that all is well now; it is back to its usual towering proportion on my face. Dear boy, you give me courage to continue with this daunting uphill task of sounding coherent [dare I say “pertinent”?] in the face of my flagrant disregard for worldly matters.
Darling Madonna, I can only sit here and envy you guys. But don’t worry, I am going to haul myself [all renegade bits] to the 7107 islands someday and indulge the Pinoy blood in my veins. See, I’m convinced that there is some Pinoy in me – it’s impossible to explain in any other way why and how I’ve fallen so much in love with ALL the Philippinos I know. Liz, HB, you and the inimitable Migs.
Benster, Bin Laden is a complicated man; Godhra was an inexcusable display of barbarianism and I’ve a Ph.D in reductionism.
Pricky, ‘tis a tough question. Will require some cross consultation which must wait because The Lobes are in the midst of serious peace-talks at the Boracay Treaty of 2007, hosted by Madonna of Barnsley [soon to be of Boracay.]
Prude, darling, you must explain that. :-) hope you are doing well, and I’m sending you good wishes for your quest.
Ill give you slack as its mourning time...
Desi has ceased to be...
what a shame! But WHY have you done this?!!??? What happened???
What are you on??
I came over to thank you for visiting my site a few months back. Forgive me for my tardiness.
After this rant, or runt or whatever you would call this elegantly-clad prose I think I might just be hooked.
No need to provide the gumboots and raingear, I'm borrowing Lizza's.
Welcome Debo :-) Thank you for your very kind words. 'Raingear' is indeed a polite reference to the sturdier, more durable equipment you will need in these parts.
'tis a pertinent question you've posed -- Personally I like a well seasoned brain.
So see you
Debo blue
[and you inspire poetry!]
Now that you mention it, Prometheus does seem to be a "kinky connoisseur of such trembling whiffles of flatulence". Aptly put, O stinky friend of Prometheus. Is that gas combustible? Ya know Prometheus the Fire Bwoy and you, the Exploding Gas Lady could put up some nice fireworks. Hell, if we could come up with a safe internal combustion engine, we can be cackling mad rich and run all those oil buggers outta bizness. Wot?
Actually, Prometheus was in your city. 4 times between Feb and now. And he will be Bach soon. Wotsay we meet up and take that engine thing further?
Arrey. Prom. Bad bwoy. 4 times without a peep!!!
‘Tis a good plan. Can hardly wait to rake in the money and guzzle breezers [damn is that Freudian or what?] while we’re cracking [!] the BIG PLAN. Now where is Lizza? She ought to be there too.
Couldn't peep since Prom, in his earthly avataar, isn't allowed to use the Cranial Flatulence Locatron. And he doesn't want to scream Big H from those high-scoorty rooftops of Sansad Marg. So unless you can provide spatial coordinates for us twain to meet, Prom will have to scream "piggyyy on the raaailwaaay" from the Nizamuddin station.
Oooo, let him scream "piggy on the railway," pleeeease? :-D
Prom: Check da wild one. Which for some reason I kept reading as dawdle. “Dawdle?” I thought, “Why does he dawdle? And worse still, why would he want to let the world know?”
Lizza, I might consider it as an elaborate password thingyschming – “I will carry a blue nose. Identify yourself by singing Piggy on the railroad when you see it”.
I hope you take a video, or pics. I'd so dearly love to witness -- and perhaps partake of! -- the effects of the collision of yin-yang methane minds and personalities.
Liz, are you kidding?! I'm hiring a reality TV crew to document the historic NCC Meet - Delhi '07*. But you have to be here too. 'Twill be incomplete without you.
*NCC - Natural Combustibles Collab.
I know you have a thing for pink pigs,, and the things I hold most dear seem to emit unusual amounts of flatulence--- Billy,,, frank,,, etc.
NanNan, ;-) blame it on karma.
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