Because I have nothing useful to do...

No use trying to fight it, you're an eight-sided die, a d8. A fine example of simple elegance, the d8 is one of the least appreciated types of dice, and is often neglected. You are known to be quiet and shy, outward traits that conceal viscous sarcasm and mean wit. You are very smart, yet wise enough to hide your intelligence the quicker they found out how smart you are, the sooner they'll put you to work, which is something you can do without. People call you dark and pessimistic, or moody and cynical. You find little point in arguing.

Take the quiz at dicepool.com

And now for a saturday in the life of Eris...

05:15hrs- First alarm goes off. I set it so I could get up early and study for the day's exam
(having wasted the entire day before on a little premature end-of-exams celebration with monty
and lion. Their parents were out of town, can you blame us?). Anyway i grope around for the damn
thing and shut it off. Balls if you think I'm getting up at the first alarm.

06:10hrs- Finally get up after a severly annoyed call from my mum. This is after two more alarms
went off to a loud round of cursing of course.

06:25hrs- Am dressed and open my books to study over breakfast. Still full from yestersay's
binging so decide to skip breakfast. Go without tea in the morning for what is probably the first
time in years.

06:30hrs- Abandon books to watch a rerun of friends. Seriously, at exam time, I tend to find
wall-watching fascinating.

07:00hrs- Switch the T.V off and study or watch Seinfeld? Oh right! I saw the same episode last
night.Silly me. It's a good episode, I should see it again.

07:30hrs- I finally leave the house and I swear my mum's over there thanking everything she can
think of.

08:30hrs- Exam starts.

09:15hrs- I've finished. Am I that clever? Not really, It's not difficult to finish a paper quickly when you have nothing to write.Oh don't think I'm awful. The TYs actually asked the teacher if their's was the right paper. They couldn't find anything familiar in it. Gee, I wonder how they did?Anyway, there's more than an hour left and I have to meet my friends after so I can't leave. So, I decide to write down answers that I actually know in the spaces I left for the questions I didn't know the answers to. For example, I didn't know the applications of Object Oriented Programs (OOPs) so I wrote down the advanages of it instead. I'll get no marks for that buthey it was something to do.

09:45hrs- OK. Finished that. Now what? So I go back to the start of the paper and start underlining everything.

10:15hrs- I can't take it anymore and there's barely any place left on my paper so I leave.

10:30hrs- The last of my friends are done. We make plans to go to Lonavala after the Pracs next
week and then I have to leave.

10:40hrs- I'm at the bus stop. Teacher's called some animator friend of her's to col to give us
an all day seminar and I have to get there by 11:30.

10:50hrs- Still at the bus stop.

11:15hrs- Where the fuck is the bus????????

11:25hrs- I've had enough and take the first bus going anywhere near college and take a rick from
there.

11:50hrs- I finally get to col and the guy's checking out some of guano's stuff and giving him
tips. Crap! Riiiiiiiight......... the stuff we were supposed to bring.... about that.....

12:00hrs- Start looking for some of my old models to show him. Everyone else is like oh show that
face you made.. no not this one.... nah, i remember you modified this.... no, not this one....

12:10hrs- Still looking. Thing is we're kinda paranoid. We save our changes every two minutes and
we keep making back up files every time we do something particularly good. Like if I'm modelling
a face and I finally get the nose right, I'll save the file and make modifications from there on
in a new file. The problem is when I 'save as' I don't bother thinking up a new name so I just
add a couple of alphabets to the existing name so I end up with files called s ss sss beard
beard1 beard2 beardp3 and stuff. You can see how it's difficult for me to find any one file.

12:15hrs- Finally found something worth showing and he said it was good. Yay!!!!!! He gave us
a couple of good suggestions though.

13:30hrs- We break for lunch. Guano's mum made biryani so yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

14:00hrs- we're back.

14:15hrs- He's back and wants to know if we practiced any of the stuff he showed us. yeah right.

17:15hrs- We finally stop and teacher and the dude leave. Ugh, by this time I'm giggling like I'm
high. Thing is when I get tired I find everything absolutely hilarious and I'd just spent the
entire week getting by on 4 hours of sleep a day and my exams just got over so you can imagine
how out of it I was by then.

17:30hrs- Guano, Horse's ass, Purple freak and I are at Gokul eating ice cream. Did you know that
licking a lollipop in public gets you stared at quite a bit?

18:30hrs- I'm finally home.

20:15hrs- My dad goes out and gets me some of my favourite vegetable pulao from that place I
love.

22:00hrs- I'm dead to the world.

Is this the end of it? Can our brave heroine finally get some well-deserved rest? Will her dreams
of a Sunday morning swim followed by a yummy lunch and afternoon napping come true?

You think?

Bloody fricking getting up late, damn waxing session, have to go for mass, stupid practical exams
next week
...... extended bout of grumbling continues.....

Sigh. I love my life. I'm not being sarcastic. I really do love my life.
Doesn't stop me from wanting to kill faff-a-lot Lei though.

A (Satur)Day in My Life

0700 hrs: Cellphone alarm rings... fish for phone under pillow... switch off in sleepy haze.

0701 hrs: Radio switches on... ignore and roll over.

0900 hrs: Radio switches off automatically. Wake up.

0915 hrs: Sit up on bed.

0930 hrs: Get off bed and perform morning ablutions.

0940 hrs: Switch on computer and make toast.

0945 hrs: Eat toast.

1000 hrs: Check emails, send emails, look up bus timetables, check out Eris' slashfic hyperlinks, watch music videos, reread 'Pride and Prejudice' and basically do sweet bugger all.

1300 hrs: Have lunch (preferably cheese toastie, although a tuna sandwich will do). Change out of pyjamas.

1330 hrs: Take a walk to town.

1345 hrs: Buy boring stuff like food. And then... faff around in Primark... the mother of all cutprice designer clothing stores. Cogitate over the pros and cons of thongs, mascara, ballet shoes and jersey dresses that barely cover your ovaries. Buy nothing if you can help it.

1515 hrs: On a whim try and find out where the library is.

1545 hrs: No sign of library. Finds Cardiff Castle instead. Never realised it was so big. Head back home. Take clever shortcut through shopping mall to high street (while silently gloating over your impeccable sense of direction).

1615 hrs: Lost in shopping mall. Realise that shopping mall is in fact Shopping Mall A which connects with a new Shopping Mall B at some point. Finally find your way out. The exit is the furthest away from your destination (the high street ofcourse).

1645 hrs: Unwisely go back into shopping mall to find another exit. Somehow end up on first floor of mall B. Thoughts running through mind - "I sure as hell hope I don't meet anyone I know because I might just scream because I'm hungry and the bags are heavy and my feet hurt and I'm tired and ohdeargodKILLMENOW!!!".

1700 hrs: Finally gives up and follows group of old ladies who luckily are heading towards the high street. Shopping is highly overrated.

1730 hrs: Reach home and collapse on bed for awhile. Put away groceries, kick up heels and listen to Limp Bizkit's 'Behind Blue Eyes'. Maybe Eris isn't so batty after all for liking Limp Bizkit.

1800 hrs: Shower, trim fingernails, paint toenails and all that jazz.

1900 hrs: Cook dinner.

1930 hrs: Eat dinner.

2015 hrs: Wash and wipe dishes and tidy room. Talk to mum and answer a multitude of questions about whether I'm keeping myself well fed.

2100 hrs: Faff around on the internet some more.

2300 hrs: Collapse on bed, curl up under duvet and go out like a light.

Cats and the Joys of Babysitting

I can think of better ways to spend my summer afternoons than singing songs from Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Cats'. Unfortunately, I haven't the energy for most of them. So it came about that last week, Kiki and I were closeted in the box room, singing 'Old Deuteronomy' in faux operatic style at the top of our voices. I say 'closeted' because we didn't want anyone to hear us. We failed to realise that we were sitting right next to an open window. The neighbours must think we're nuts.

But NOTHING (cooking, grocery shopping and doing miscellaneous chores don't count) is worse than babysitting. We were informed on Sunday, that the Three Varmints (a.k.a. the Gruesome Twosome and their baby brother) would be coming over on Monday morning. Cue the groans and (in Kiki's case) murderous oaths. I am over the age of majority... Kiki is not... technically that makes her 'a child'... which means that she gets dragged into playing games with Varmint Major and Varmint Minor and keeping them entertained and making them jelly. All I have to do is carry Varmint Minimus around when he's cranky, feed him and change his nappy.

All I can say is THANK GOD FOR TELEVISION. Not that there weren't any fights because of it. But Kiki, firm disciplinarian that she is, quelled any squabbles by threatening to banish them to places unknown (and unpleasant). Honestly Eris, sometimes I think she could give the nuns at school a run for their money. To make matters worse, Varmint Minor decided he wanted to play outside, so we had to take shifts sitting by the front door to keep an eye on him. Wouldn't want him to get hurt now, would we?

It was then that the next door cat, Spike, got confused, ran in through the front door, went upstairs and tried to jump out of the bedroom window (what a twat). Since Kiki has more patience with cats, she had to pick him up and (in my words) toss the bugger out. Spike was brought down looking perfectly indignant and slightly ridiculous. I hate picking cats up. Their spines go all bendy and elongated and it's just gross.

Seriously though, I did feel sorry for Kiki. All I did was use the internet all day and coo at Varmint Minimus occasionally. The Gruesome Twosome ran the poor girl ragged. At the end of the morning she might have thought that this was a good idea:

Anyroad, I've finished ranting AND... wait for it... I'll be posting something new on my own blog which is here. The comment hyperlink is your friend. Cookies for those who comment.

Bad Dog! No Biscuit!

This country is going to the dogs… or it would be if the dogs would have us. I’m sorry, was that not patriotic? Do I look like I give a rat’s ass?
Unless you happen to be the very slowest of the slow, you’ve probably guessed by now that I am not a happy camper. You may even go so far as to say that I’m a bit pissed off.
And right you are! I’m very pissed off! Why, you ask?

Got a coupla hours?

Let’s see….. oh yeah! There’s the big controversy about the lady you touched a holy idol while she happened to be menstruating and now the entire state is up in arms about how the temple has been defiled and how they just can’t go on anymore.
WTF?

Hmmmm… that can’t be it. I know that’s what you’re saying. That can’t be all I’m upset about.
Right again! Gosh, you’re on a roll.

Now the bloody Moral Police in Madhya Pradesh want to stop schoolgirls from wearing uniforms with skirts as they’re too provocative. I tend to get rather violent about this topic. Why? Gosh, I don’t know. Might have something to do with the fact that instead of punishing rapists, these fuckwits are coming up with ways to excuse them. Might have something to do with the fact that in the last couple of years I can’t count the number of times some university or the other has tried to stop girls from wearing jeans in college. Maybe it’s the fact that my mother flaunts off more in her sari then I do in my jeans. May even be the fact that it’s women who are coming up with these rules ( women waaaay past their prime and not in the best shape… which may have something to do with it).
So before I break something… I’m just going to raise an eyebrow and move on.

Ah! You being the clever reader you are, you know there’s more coming up.

Some two bit actress wannabe makes a fool of herself at some two bit singer wannabe’s party and does everything but throw herself at the birthday boy but is guilty of nothing but embarrassing herself and everyone else who had to witness it. The birthday boy is guilty of nothing but being extremely homely and trying to search for her tonsils with his tongue without asking for her permission first. Could we have decided that they’d embarrassed themselves enough and just forget about it? Well, we could have, but where would be the fun in that? Could she have just slapped him and kicked him in the nuts before storming out? Don’t be silly! Not when there’s so many cameras around and she’s desperate for press coverage.
So she makes the scariest face I’ve ever seen on anything other than banshees in really bad horror movies and proceeds to act as if he’d destroyed her virtue, murdered her entire family and keyed her car all in one go and there’s nothing else on the news for two weeks. Two bloody weeks!!!
Deep breaths. Cue the eyebrow. Let’s move on.


There’s plenty here to rant about. But you know what? I just can’t do it. It’s just too mind numbingly ridiculous but at the same time so very dangerous that you can’t even believe it’s happening. In this day and age?


That’s it people. You saw it here first. Sarcasmo has been defeated.

I have nothing to say.

I'll just leave you with some of the wonderful wonderful work the government's been up to.

Brilliant police force.

Focussing on the important things.

Breaking up dangerous criminal liasons.

Fuck, I'm not even going to try to come up with something sarcastic for this.

Brand new attack force.

Louis Armstrong was right... what a wonderful world.

The Family Speaks

I promised Eris a birthday post as 'penance' because I forgot to write to her on her actual birthday. True, this is about 5 days too late. Tough.

Anywho, I thought I'd write up a list of some of the stuff that people in my family come up with. Enjoy.

1.

"Why on earth do you leave your testicles spread all over the place?" My sister, Kiki, who actually meant to say 'tentacles'.

2.

"I can't do this anymore!! My brain is paining!!!" My cousin, P.B., trying to dodge maths homework.

3.

"This is my cousin Kiki... I love her very much... We are going to get married." P.B. introducing Kiki to Zuzbaab, the village elder, when he was about 7. Kiki refused to speak to him for three days.

4.

"Lei will make such a pretty bride; I just can't wait for the wedding." Aunty Mags-from-Moira when I was about 14.

5.

"Ooooh! Look! This'd be the perfect excuse to kiss pretty girls!" My Uncle C., while checking out some contraption used to check one's eyesight. The guy has a PhD in Genetic Engineering, knows all the computer languages in existence, and is now doing a PhD in History, because he's bored.

6.

"How come I don't get any plicks and bungoots?" Kiki, at the age of 3, after Mum bought me some hairclips and my first pair of gumboots.

7.

"NOOOOOO!!!! Don't take the dead lightbulbs next to the live ones! The live ones will die too!" Cousin P3, during his 'lightbulb phase', at the age of 5. He even tried to take an old tubelight to bed with him (cue the collective 'awwww').

8.

"NAUGHTY DADA!! SHUSHHHHH!! BE QUIET!!!" Yours truly, during my very first midnight Easter mass.

9.

"Hey! There's a fairer one!" Uncle C., while taking a picture of a pink pig, as opposed to a black one.

10.

"Buy her a sausage. She'll forget all about the pig." Uncle C., when cousin P2 took offence at a pig being chased.

Well, there you go, Eris. You can't say I'm being lazy anymore. Not just yet anyway. Read and comment people, read and comment.

Just another rant

I am so sick and tired of having to explain myself to people. Why can’t I just be free to do whatever I want to do? It’s not like I’m even hurting anyone so why the hell do people feel the need to interfere in my personal life?
It’s bloody infuriating! I don’t like to watch hindi movies okay? That’s all there is to it. It’s not because I’m a snob, I’m not and it’s not because I can’t understand hindi because I bloody well can and it sure as hell isn’t because I think I’m too cool for that thank you very much.
It’s not like I’ve never seen a hindi movie before in my life. I used to watch them as a child. Let’s see if I can remember the general story line of a few, hmm? There was the one where this creepy gardener dude was working for the rich businessman with the pretty daughter who thought the gardener dude was crap till something happened and she needed the gardener dude’s help and they fell in love and they lived happily ever after in his hovel and oh yeah, her dad was evil and didn’t really love her.
And then there was the other movie with the creepy undereducated dude who got thrown together with the pretty girl for some inane reason that she deeply resented but couldn’t help because she was rich and a girl and therefore stupid and he did everything he could to make the situation worse and insulted her every chance he got till she realized that he was actually a really good guy because he didn’t kill her or rape her so she realized that she was wrong for being rich and that her father was evil ( because clearly everyone rich is evil) and fell in love with the creepy guy and had his creepy kids.
Oh and that other movie with the rich, modern girl who wore stylish clothes who was publicly insulted by the creepy undereducated dude who worked for her father for being cheap because she wore western clothes and was a shame to her father and her country for not being married, in a kitchen, in a sari and pregnant after which she realized that he was a wonderful guy with great values and fell in love with him.
Oh and the other movie where the pretty girl turns down the yucky dude and then gets raped and is so very lucky because the yucky dude is the only one who wants anything to do with her after that and he bashes up a few guys and they live happily ever after and she’ll never turn down the yucky dude again because she’s lucky that he wants her after all.
Can anyone see a pattern forming here?
Forgive me if I clearly do not want to waste my time and money sitting in a theatre full of creepy dudes watching a film clearly designed to entertain the majority of creepy dudes who lead such hard lives and once in a while need to see a happy, fluffy film about how the rich men turn out to be evil and get killed or end up in jail while they get to screw their daughters.
I don’t try to stop other people from seeing the shitty movies where the girl always, always swoons as soon as some butt ugly actor puts his arms around her so why the hell is it so important to them for me to go see the damn things.
Hell, it’s not even about me seeing English movies. I can’t remember the last time I went to a theatre, it has to be more than a year ago. I have better things to do with my life without idiots getting in my face about how I’m not patriotic enough. I don’t need to wear a salwar kameze or grow my hair long or speak hindi you bloody shmucks so get the fuck off my back!
My mother is Punjabi and my father is goan and my mother doesn’t speak Konkani and my father doesn’t speak Punjabi. Did it occur to anyone that it’s just easier for us all to communicate in English? Nevermind that I can understand Punjabi and hindi and have a bloody good idea of what people are saying in Konkani and marathi. All people know is that I’m a shame for preferring to speak in English.
Ugh. When are people going to get that I don’t need to act Indian…. I am Indian.