A country weeps in agony.
A country wades through rivers of grief.
A country stands in disbelief and outrage, shame and humiliation.
The country needs hope and strength to get back on its feet again.
As a polite citizen of this splendid society, I humbly yell in anger, “what the bloody fuck is wrong with the Indian Judicial System, huh?”
3 years ago, it was Afzal.
“Let’s hang him.”
“No, don’t hang him.”
“Let’s hang him.”
“No, don’t hang him.”
“Oh look, he’s running away.”
“Don’t bother. We have much more important matters to deal with – like banning violent cartoon shows such as Tom and Jerry that could possibly corrupt little kids.”
Last year, it was Kasab.
“I want lawyer.”
(was given a lawyer)
“I want newspaper.”
(was offered Midday – only for the Midday Mate)
“I want high fibre Marie biscuit and tea.”
(Served in finest silverware)
“I want 1 Happy Meal, free toy, warm chocolate sauce and 72 virgin lesbians.”
(Free toy offer was no longer available, but other items were delivered with sincere apologies)
This year, it is the magnum opus of all travesty: Homosexuality is no longer a crime.
Seriously, what were they thinking? What the hell would the High Court think of next? Legalizing bestiality? Legalizing paedophilia? Legalizing necrophilia? Legalizing romantic comedies starring Reese Witherspoon?
On the same note, why don’t they just go ahead and legalize public screening of gay porn in malls, hotels and railway stations? It would be delightful to watch, wouldn’t it? “A ‘fairy’ tale come alive!”
Thanks to your highly unbiased judgment and your ‘make-everyone-happy-and-gay’ rationale, all fruit cakes have come out of their neatly arranged closets and are now infesting the land, nearly blinding the entire country with the multi-coloured attire, like a sea of brightly coloured chunky gay vomit flowing in the streets. Complete with feathers, frills and fur.
I turn on the T.V, and the Whiners are celebrating the court’s decision. They can’t even complete a fucking sentence without moving their hands and touching their shampooed and conditioned hair 50 times/minute, for fuck’s sake.
I walk out of the house and it’s horrifying. It very closely resembles one of those zombie movies where the entire city is taken over by radiation afflicted dead people. “The Night of the Living Gay.”
A couple of men look at me, smile and wave. I can taste the bile in my throat. Ugh, I get the same icky feeling when I see cockroaches, lizards and Shoaib Akhtar.
I can’t even begin to imagine the scenes inside a Fashion Design college hostel. Dear Lord, be our saviour.
They call this shit Gay Pride. Where’s the pride in that, I wonder. It’s almost as stupid as saying “B.M.C. sweeper pride” or “U.A.E. cricket team pride.”
In my humble opinion…
…all this is utterly ridiculous because I do not understand the *concept* or *logic* behind homosexuality. When God created Adam and Eve, He gave them parts that are supposed to fit for a reason. It takes just the minimum amount of common sense to figure that out. Now what part of “your thing goes here AND NOT IN THAT CAVEMAN DUDE’S ASS” is so complex for homo sapiens to understand? Do they want this tattooed on the woman’s belly with an arrow pointing to the appropriate location? Why else would they go after illegal holes? Why can’t they just follow the Indian “Penal” Code? So many questions, but so few answers.
We can’t let this go on, can we? As I see it, this is going to strongly affect both straight men and women –
1. Men would have to deal with other men making passes at them
2. Women, who used to worry about their boyfriends having affairs with other women, now have an additional issue to bother about.
The time is now. This is the straight man’s hour of need. Let us all join hands, while strictly maintaining a distance of 3 feet of course, and pledge to put an end to this pestilence.
The solution is simple.
Men: always keep your spiked baseball bats handy. If bothered, aim for their pretty heads. Swing till you can’t hear their whiny voices no more. I call this a “homo run.”
Women: wear skimpy clothing. Shower your love and attention on your boyfriends. Act horny all the time. Show these fuckfaces what they are missing. That will surely de-homogenize them.
Pharmac companies: find an antidote, morons!
God: Kill ’em all. Please.
The onus lies on every individual’s effort to contribute as much as we can to this noble cause. As John F. Kennedy once famously said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do to a country that’s doing each other up the ass.”
The fag end of this blog post:
Think I’m a prejudiced asshole? Tell me, what is life without prejudice? Prejudice gives us a fresh new perspective. We would have been one large, happy, loving family if it wasn’t for the gift of prejudice – and that, in my opinion, would have been just very gay.
For you see, a certain amount of bigotry, a dash of close mindedness, a sprinkling of intolerance and a pinch of hate crimes all contribute to the well being of the society. Else, these people would do to India what Ekta Kapoor has done to television.
If the High Court’s verdict wasn’t funny enough, here are some more fag jokes – extremely offensive, but that’s the point:
Did you know that only 10% of the homo population was born that way?
The other 90% were sucked into it!
How can you tell if a novel is homosexual?
The hero always gets his man at the end.
Did you hear about the two queers who had an argument in a gay bar?
They went outside and exchanged blows.
How can you tell if a bank robber is gay?
He ties up the safe and blows the Security Guard.
What do you call a gay Japanese woman?
What has hit more balls than Ronaldinho’s foot?
Elton John’s chin.
How do you know if you’re in a tough Lesbian Bar?
Even the pool tables don’t have balls.
Kindly read with your eyes:
1. Please, do not leave your pricelessly accurate insights such as “r u a closet fag????” or “were u sexually abused as a child??” as comments. The answer to both is no. I did not spend my childhood playing with dolls or prancing around in skirts, thank you.
2. Well done, HC. They call you the ‘High’ Court for a reason… you were clearly high when you banged your hammer on the table. And no, that’s not a gay metaphor for crying out loud.