Tag Archives: wtf

A Brief History Of The Internets.

Welcome. This is the first in the series of my 1 part article on modern technology. In this informative article, I’ll be using my extensive experience in IT to describe the origin and growth of a revolution called the internets. This article intends to examine the historical development of the internets, provide a basic understanding of its working and appreciate its contribution to the contemporary society.

Historical account

The earliest reports of the internet can be traced back to Mesozoic Era, about 300 million years ago. It was an era most famously known as the one when Microsoft’s Bill Gates broke new grounds by launching the definitive version of Windows: Windows ME (Mesozoic Edition). It was an instant sensation among dinosaurs, ichthyosaurs, angiosperms and primates from all parts of the Pangea. Microsoft were so overwhelmed with the positive response that they didn’t change any of the features for 300 million years, until recently, when they added a few fancy graphics to it and called it Windows 7 Ultimate Edition. This is, naturally, noted as a glaring anomaly in Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, which is based largely on the idea of “survival of the fittest”. How the miserably unfit Windows managed to survive this long without evolving is still a mystery that continues to bewilder modern day biologists.

Archaeologists have also been able to testify to the technological progress in pre-historic times through fossils excavated from various parts of the Earth. These key pieces of evidence are extremely helpful in reconstructing the very first structure of the internet.

1. The early prototypes of routers and broadband connection equipment used for trans-continent communication after the start of Continental Drift. These are still in use at MTNL.

2. The beginning of the Microsoft-Apple product market rivalry.

3. A modern day MTNL employee setting up a broadband connection using modern day tools.

Architecture and working

The internet is based on the client-server model, as shown in the figure below.

How it works:

Client side

-When you type a website address, say http://www.facebook.com, in your browser and hit enter, a request goes to the server.
-If the request is polite enough, the server processes it and displays the Facebook page.
-You then login to Facebook and post stupid status updates about your day.
-Your friends then send requests to the server to remove you from their list.

Server side

Servers are powered by 4 key elements.

1. Large, powerful coal engines located at an undisclosed location have to be kept running day and night to keep the internet online.
2. Cheap labour from poor countries like Bangladesh, Nepal and Myanmar is employed at $0.08 an hour to manually operate little hamster wheels which supply power to all servers in the Southern hemisphere. Although the wages are meager, the exploitation illegal and the working conditions miserable, it is still better than what Reebok and Nike pay them for making shoes.
3. Unknown to most religious junkies, their hopes and prayers help in protecting the internet against the evil eyes of atheists.
4. The Pakistani cricket team also helps in covering the cost of server operation and maintenance. How? For every match that Pakistan fix and throw away, bookies donate 10% of their profits to the True Chartity Party/Internet Party (TCP/IP) as a goodwill gesture. If it wasn’t for the Pakistan cricket team, the cost of an internet connection would be so high that none of us would have been able to afford it. (I request you to take this moment to include PCB in your thoughts and prayers.)

Backup server of the entire internet is hosted on the brain of India’s most richly talented actor-par-excellence-par-awesomeness, Upen Patel. For those unaware, Upen Patel was born with a rare congenital birth defect that left him with severely contorted facial expressions, an unmistakably hilarious speech impediment and a photographic memory. The comical facial expressions and gay voice came handy in “bumbling gay bimbo villain” roles in classic movies such as Ajab Prem Ki Gajab Kahani; the photographic memory in systematically memorizing every web page on the internet over a period of 2 decades. Till date, Upen has memorized billions and billions of web pages and databases and is the only backup should the internet be bombed by terror groups. As such, he is understandably the most sought after actor/ backup utility in our galaxy.

Etiquette

1. Usage of emoticons is a vital component of internet communication. In most scenarios, the usage of emoticons determines the intent and the tone of your message.

For example, “You stupid half-brained douchebag” is offensive due to lack of emoticons that are required to soften the tone of the message.

Contrast the above with “lol u stupid half-brained douchebag!!! 😀 :P”
Clearly, the sensible choice of using emoticons has prevented the sentence from hurting someone’s feelings.

2. Hypocrisy is not only permissible, but actively encouraged on the internet. It is not uncommon to see attention hungry girls uploading close to 500 albums with 1000 photos in each album, detailing every stage of their life – right from conception to embryonic development to their first school drama rehearsal to how they once tasted an alcoholic beverage at some party. These very girls will then complain about “sites not respecting their privacy” and expect sympathy from equally intelligent roadside Romeos who are only more than happy to oblige. And to top it off, this exchange of mutual ass-suckery will most likely be in horrendous English.

3. A rule of thumb: everything is fake and gay on the internet. Any claims/photos/videos of accidents/miracles/conspiracies/accomplishments are fake and gay products of Photoshop and Adobe After Effects. For instance, this:

Applications and usage

Broadly, the only 2 real uses of the internet can be narrowed down to:

1. Spamming.
2. Pornographic studies.

If you are not using it for watching porn, it is assumed that you are busy spamming at the moment. When the spamming stops, it is implied that you’re occupied with porn. However, certain people have demonstrated that both these activities can be performed simultaneously: by spamming porn or watching porn about spam.

Security concerns

The internet has been instrumental in making the world a smaller, simpler place where distances, languages or cultures are not prohibitive factors anymore. It is astounding when you even begin to comprehend the amount of data travelling forth over the internet, its rate of growth, its global reach, its vision for the future; to realize that, in essence, the perpetual repository of the entire human civilization is available at any point in time to any person at any location.

However, as with any system in the world, the growth and spread of internet has not been without an opportunity for exploitation and malice. Moreover, it is much simpler to blame technology which only obeys the instructions dished out by discerning humans.

For eg, Twitter has been held responsible for spreading internet AIDS by letting cheap Bollywood celebrities with 140 or less functional brain cells post their shitty updates in 140 characters or less. Twitter takes care to verify the celebrities’ accounts but does nothing to verify their intelligence – a serious security flaw, as viewed by many.

One of the biggest concerns for most parents is that their child might get access to pornographic material online. Thankfully, there are a lot of sites and softwares today that advise which porn sites are paid sites and which ones are free, so that children are not duped into paying for porn which can be obtained for free – relieving the parental concern over credit card misuse. Many thoughtful individuals have also contributed towards this cause by publishing lists of “paid members” usernames and passwords free of cost.

It has also been suggested that internet addiction is driving people away from real life social interaction, that people are not spending enough time with their families and that people are okay with the idea of online relationships as opposed to one in real life. I’m not sure of these claims, but I will do some research and post my detailed analysis on Facebook, Orkut, Twitter, MySpace, WordPress, Blogspot, Posterous, Picasa, Flickr, Tumblr, Typepad, LiveJournal, Hi5, Savita Bhabhi and a few other sites soon.

***

That wraps up what little I know about the internet. Hope you found it informative and illuminating.

Oh and before you leave, don’t forget to collect your free gift for being the 999999th visitor. 😀 😛

Game. Set. Match Made In Hell.

In a move set to delight millions of Indians and Pakistanis, sports enthusiasts, and people who like to laugh at the myriad quirks of life, the legendary tennis sensation Sania Mirza announced her marriage with the insanely talented cricket prodigy Shoaib Malik. According to experts, this decision is touted to be an important step in strengthening the already robust Indo-Pak relations. The experts are right in their forecast since both Sania and Shoaib are leading representatives of sports in their respective countries, and this matrimony can easily overshadow history and other such unimportant shit. A similar sentiment was expressed by the benevolent NGO Shiv Sena, who bestowed their blessings and best wishes for the couple. In related news, 2000 Shiv Sainiks have vowed to dance at the wedding, provided the song Aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai is played by the orchestra.

“The news of me marrying Sania is true. Inshallah, will get married in April”, Shoaib wrote on his Twitter account, which is followed by only one user: Sania Mirza. This is the first time that Shoaib has come into the limelight after previously having been hounded by the media for testing positive in several banned substances tests and testing negative in an IQ test. This is also the first time that Sania Mirza has come into the limelight after previously having been applauded by the media for putting up a brave fight against a visually-impaired-8-months-pregnant player, but still losing in straight sets in the second round of the Lijjat Papad Open in 2005.

So how did these two love birds hook up? According to sources who do not wish to be blamed, Sania had posted her matrimonial on matrimonyforfailures.com. As always, our unethical reporter/office clerk Ganpat “Haxxx0r” Phonde hacked into matrimonyforfailures.com’s database and stole information for our tabloid. Reproduced below is the full, fake transcript of the Mirza Marriage Hunt.

Sania posts her initial proposal:

Seeking: groom
Must be a successful sportsman, must be more successful than me, should be good looking, smart, rich, NRI preferred.

The system ran a search for all eligible candidates and came back with these names:

Tiger Woods
Roger Federer
Michael Phelps
Rafael Nadal
Amelie Mauresmo …err
Lionel Messi
Cristiano Ronaldo
Tiger Woods
Ronaldinho
Tiger Woods oh God someone marry me please I’m so sorry
Matthew Hayden
Mike Tyson
Brett Lee
Gary Kasparov.

Sania was obviously overwhelmed and edited the search criteria to bring the results a little more within range:

Seeking: groom
Must be a sportsman, must be slightly more successful than me, as good looking as me, as smart as me, as rich as me, NRI still preferred.

This time the list of names that sprung up were:

Roshan Mahanama
Henry Olonga
Mashrafe Murtaza
The current Bangladeshi Olympic squad
Eric Djemba-Djemba
Steven Gerrard
Venkatesh Prasad
Dhanraj Pillai
Frank Lampard
Tiger Woods I promise I’ll never do it again please marry me
Mikael Silvestre.

Sania was somewhat irritated by the results and had to revise her demands once again:

Seeking: groom
Must be a CRICKETER from the subcontinent, should not be fuck-all broke, NRI still preferred. And fuck you.

This time she got only four names.

Shoaib Akhtar
Khaled Mashud
Kumara Dharmasena
Shoaib Malik.

Sania was fucking furious at this list of names. She refreshed the page 10 times hoping the list would change. Alas, she only got this message on her browser:

Expectations out-of-bounds error: You are not Steffi Graf or Anna Kournikova or Martina Hingis or Victoria Posh Spice Beckham. Please come out of your fantasy and try again.

Sania shrugged in agreement, simmered down a bit and decided to Google the list to get some background:

Shoaib Akhtar: This was the first link that Google threw up.

Needless to say, Shoaib is never going to get married. Next please.

Khaled Mahmud: Search returned this highly controversial photo of him watching the stumps fly while questionably holding a bat against his balls:

Ah, my balls!

No perverted freaks for Sania. Next please.

Kumara Dharamasena : Google searched long and hard, but unfortunately,

Livin' next door to Kumara Dharamsena.

Left with no other option, Sania decided that Shoaib Malik is the “right guy” and got in touch with him. Malik was surprised when she told him that Google regarded him as her perfect match. But before he took any decision, he wanted to run a background check on Sania too.

Tennis porn

Shoaib was overjoyed with excitement and might have even cried a little. He accepted the proposal immediately and urged that they should get married ASAP.

So there you have it people. A happy couple about to tie the knot today. We sincerely hope it works out for them and they have a great life ahead. And before we sign off, here’s our humble marriage gift for them: a picture of Shoaib in “happier” times. Congrats on the wedding, Sania. Peace.

Fail.

Truth be told, I cannot get enough of the Inappropriate Soundtracks meme. The beauty of this meme lies in how you take a serious, dramatic scene, and turn it into something hideously absurd.

I jumped in on the bandwagon too, and applied the same idea to Bollywood movies. There are so many lame scenes that it’s hard to decide which one to spoof.

Watch this video: Link to Youtube.

The theme is mega epic action blockbuster superhero fail. If anyone asks, tell them I made it. Thanks.

Shhh! Did You Hear Something?

Well, hello.

Today, I want all of you to meet a bunch of failures – the worst in their field. Please take a moment to feel sad about them, okay?

Luciano Pavarotti – Italian tenor – Fail.

Andrea Bocelli – Italian tenor – Bigger fail.

Placido Domingo – Spanish tenor – El failure.

Jose Carreras – – Spanish tenor – El epico failure.

Bruce Dickinson, Rob Halford, Robert Plant, Ronnie Dio, Ozzy Osbourne – Heavy metal vocalists – Embarrassing high pitched fails.

John Lennon, Paul McCartney – The Beatles – Beaterrible fails.

Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen – Rock vocalists –
Grammy winning failures.

S.D Burman, R.D Burman, Kishore Kumar, Mohammad Rafi – Indian singers – Some more award winning, critically acclaimed failures.

Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosale – Indian singers – nightin-fails of India.

You ask me, why do all these people fail? What do they have in common that results in their failure?

Answer: their voice. They have just one voice. Can you believe that? Just one stupid, lame, boring voice.

In today’s music industry, only losers work with just one voice. The more talented folk develop a second voice to add an extra dimension to their already dynamic range. Case in point – read this to believe your ears. Some more links here and here.

This story has spread like a wild forest fire and has got the Indian blogosphere abuzz with posts. Suddenly, swine flu doesn’t seem like a threat anymore.

I dropped everything and double-checked the article just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating or something. It’s as if one voice wasn’t enough to enthrall the audiences to the point of aural orgasms, the Nasal Whiner goes ahead with a surgery to get a SECOND voice. Wrong surgery, mate.

The article also mentions something about the new voice having a “base middle octave”. Now I have very poor understanding of music, notes, types of voices etc., so I just Googled this term and found this –

A base middle octave is powerful enough to match the resonance frequency of large buildings, trigger destructive oscillations and cause absolute mayhem.

Click here to watch Himesh testing his new voice atop a bridge.

Shit happens a lot more frequently these days, it seems. Before you even know it, His Capped Suckiness is going to unleash his second voice on the world. Do yourselves a favour and pierce your respective eardrums.

Cause

HIM.

Effect

Jesus H. Christ

Cursed Luck.

Irony.

Pronunciation: ‘I-r&-nE also ‘I(-&)r-nE

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural -nies

Etymology: Latin ironia, from Greek eirOnia, from eirOn dissembler

(1) Incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result

(2) An event or result marked by such incongruity – incongruity between a situation developed in a drama and the accompanying words or actions that is understood by the audience but not by the characters in the play — called also dramatic irony, tragic irony.

Source: Merriam-Webster.

I’ve been itching to watch something ridiculous/hilarious for a long time, so I watched the epic classic, Luck. Here’s the review.

The Cast:

You would have to kindly bear with me on this because I couldn’t recognize most of the cast properly. Perhaps there was something wrong with my eyes, perhaps I was too overwhelmed due to all the mega awesomeness around me… I really can’t put my finger on it. Consequently, I request you to use your own judgment, which I believe is much more reliable than mine. Think about it – I WATCHED the movie, didn’t I?

Sanjay Dutt

The veteran actor plays Karim Moosa, the luckiest gambler in the universe. The opening scene features a blindfolded Dutt racing across multiple train tracks (when the trains are running, of course) but escaping without a scratch. The movie then takes us back to his childhood and shows how he survived a mosque collapse when he was a 9 month baby, a 4 storey drop when he was 7, a destructive flood when he was 13. This is justified by saying, “he’s just incredibly lucky.”

A deleted scene from the movie particularly caught my fancy:

A blindfolded Dutt is asked to pick a blue ball from a box containing 10 balls, all of different colours. Probability says his chances of picking up the correct ball is just 1/10. But as we all know, Mathematics is just a superstition that means nothing in real life. So, when Dutt puts his hand inside the box, he not only picks up the correct ball, but also an AK-56, ammo and drugs along with it! TADA! Not so lucky after all, huh?

Imran Khan

Another extremely lucky character in the movie. He rivals Dutt with his list of “lucky survivals.”

What he doesn’t realize is that the list also includes his previous movie, Kidnap. The fact that his career actually survived the cataclysmic catastrophe is a testament to the sheer power of good luck. So I guess his character makes a lot of sense. Good casting decision fellas!

Shruthi Haasan

Luck can be cruel sometimes, or so seems to be the case with Shruthi Haasan. After all, she is the daughter of the legendary actor Kamal Haasan and the mythical actress Sarika, so we should have expected acting to be in her genes, right?

Right?

*long, uncomfortable, embarrassing silence*

Cough. As I said, luck can be extremely cruel sometimes.

But hey, I loved her single note robotic voice though – it brought back memories of an engrossing Stephen Hawking presentation. Although I must say that Hawking, even with his condition, is more expressive than this lump of wood.

Luckily, it is only her voice that is as flat as an ironing board. The rest of her isn’t… so I guess that somehow makes up for her presence.

S Gerard

Ravi Kissan

Fortune favours the brave, they say. And the brave favour Bollywood. Apparently, limiting himself to the boundaries of highly acclaimed Bhojpuri films wasn’t enough for a man of Ravi Kissan’s caliber, which explains why he graced this movie with his impeccable elegance.

He plays a perverted psychopath in the film. Sources say that it took him over 10 seconds of untiring effort to get into character. The same sources also say that he hasn’t been able to come out of it since.

ravikissan

Chitrashi Rawat

The attempted comic relief. She wasn’t really required as the plot easily accomplished comedy of the greatest degree of hilarity all by itself.

In one of the most intelligently plotted and cleverly directed moments in the movie, a shark bites off Chitrashi’s leg. This also wasn’t really required because she is already lame to begin with.

This movie could have much been better without the odd redundancy here and there, you know.

parthiv-shortcut

Danny Denzongpa

There’s nothing wrong with his role/acting. He looks remarkably fit for his age, and his performance was the only thing worth watching in the entire movie. My respect, Mr Denzongpa.

Mithun Chakraborty

Let me get this straight once and for all: no one, and I mean NO ONE mocks Mithunda. He is a legend, and shame on you if you dare make fun of him ever. EVER.

The Climax:

(Spoiler alert – but you will be glad I saved your time and money.)

Obviously, there can’t be TWO lucky people alive at the same time, so they decide to settle it by playing a little game of chance. There are two guns to choose from – one has 5 blanks and just 1 bullet and other has all 6 intact. They have to choose one and shoot each other. Clearly, the guy picking up the first gun has only 1/6 chance of survival, correct? Well, think again.

Both of them pick up a random gun and shoot each other. As luck would have it, the guy who picks the gun with just one bullet does not shoot a blank. You almost begin to celebrate their deaths, when BAM! Story mein twist.

Dutt survives because he’s hit on the arm. Imran survives because (and I’m not making this up. This is how the movie really ended.) HE IS BORN WITH A RARE MEDICAL CONDITION WHEREIN HIS HEART IS LOCATED ON THE RIGHT HAND SIDE INSTEAD OF THE LEFT, AND THUS WHEN DUTT AIMED AND SHOT AT HIS HEART, THE BULLET MISSED IT.

The ‘Doctor’ then explains that this rare condition occurs in only 1 in 50,000 cases. What luck.

Incidentally, the guy who wrote the script was also born with a similar condition: he was born with his braincells located inside his ass instead of his skull. That’s not rare, is it?

Sanjay Dutt pushes his luck yet again by trying to sound all philosophical : “I’ve been really lucky all my life, but you know what? Luck only graces those who have the desire to win.” Fair enough, but this is nowhere to be seen in the movie. All of them are shown succeeding or failing only because of chance. And Dutt is depicted as this Mafia Lord who makes his living off bets, so I’m not sure why they would even attempt to rationalize such a lame plot with a philosophical statement. Just unbelievably epic chutyagiri.

To sum it up…

It may be writer/director Soham Shah’s second movie, but we don’t see Beginner’s luck favouring him. Beginner’s luck, get it? Hahahaha. Hahaha. Hmm.

And if you are one of those people who really believe that wearing a horse shoe pendant around your neck will bring you good luck, I propose tying an entire horse around yours and the entire cast’s neck and dumping all of you in the ocean. If you come out alive, you are indeed lucky and deserve to watch many more such intellectually stimulating movies. If not, well, hard luck.

Which brings us back to irony. All members of the cast think that they are luckier than the others without realizing what massive misfortune they have collectively wreaked upon the poor audience. Move over Shakespeare, your tragic ironies just got owned!

And finally, the question arises…

When I know that the movie is going to suck, why do I still go to a theater and watch it?

Good question.

You see, I’m a staunch follower of teh internets. On teh internets, there is a popular Rule that goes,

1. Do whatever it takes to get lulz.

2. Make sure the lulz is widely distributed. This will allow for more lulz to be made.

3. The game is never over until all the lulz have been had.

That is what I do. I purposely watch shitty movies such as this just for the lulz. And I must say, I wasn’t disappointed. Luckily.

Continue reading

Coffee, Tea Or Sodomy? Tee Hee Hee.

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.

My country.

‘BACKGROUND’

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.”

“Ok.”

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?
Yoko Homo.

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.

***

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article-0-01C5174600000578-557_468x388

youregay

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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.

EX-Men Origins: Breakups Before Beginnings.

Every superhero has a past. A past that speaks not just of the days they’ve saved, the bad guys they’ve slain and the sequels they’ve made, but also about their failed relationships.

This summer, superheroes from all around the world will unite to face their past… and take on humanity’s biggest nemesis ever : love. For there doth not exists a burden heavier than a lovesick heart, a crisis bigger than a fucked up relationship, and a Kryptonite deadlier than an estranged lover’s fury.

In an age where nuclear warfare threatens the annihilation of mankind, 6 superheroes find a bigger problem on their hands. This is their journey – from X-Men to Ex-Men.

Only in expensive theaters.

Professor Charles Francis Xavier | Professor X

Professor Charles Xavier is the founder and the dean of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Not the Churchgate one, silly – that’s for Lower Learning. This one’s for mutants, and there are no SC/ST/OBC reservations here.

Powers: World’s most powerful telepath, capable of astral projection, mind control, illusion casting, memory manipulation, psychic blasts, as well as sensing the presence of other mutants in a limited radius.

Breakup story:

Xavier is blessed with a power that every guy on the planet would kill for – he can READ, CONTROL AND MANIPULATE thoughts. Just think! He is the only man on Earth who’s capable of figuring out what his girlfriend is really thinking, and actually dictating her thoughts.

Imagine:

Prof X: Evening honey!

Girl: Hey, love. I was thinking that maybe today…

(Prof immediately reads her thoughts)

Prof X: ..that you want to watch Notting Hill with me?

Girl (amazed) : Oooh, it was like you read my mind there!

Prof X: Yes, and I can change it too.

(Telepathically erases her memory and derails her train of thought.)

Girl: Oh Proffie, chuck Notting Hill. Let’s watch football instead. Wait, I’ll get you masala sing dana and beer. And how about having wild, raunchy sex after the match?

Girl (scratching head): Did I just say that? Funny, I don’t remember…

(Prof X zaps her memory again.)

Prof X: Much better. Make sure the beer’s cold.

**
However, this didn’t last for too long. Just when Prof. X was beginning to think that he had it all under control, prime time T.V. shows came in to ruin his party. To his pleasant horror, he discovered that : a confused woman + even more confused woman on Star World + retarded self-help advise = catastrophe.

Girl: Xavier, you lying controlling freak!

Prof X (telepathically sensing a rebellion): What’s wrong, babe?

Girl: Don’t babe me, asshole. I know that you’ve been messing with my head all this time.

(Prof X tries to quickly change her thoughts.)

Girl: Ha! That won’t work anymore, bastard! I took expert tips from Oprah and Dr. Phil, and now you no longer control me. I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man like you. I’m a strong, independent woman…

(Prof. X attempts mind control and psychic sabotage.)

Prof X: Oh shit, I – I can’t..damn I – I. It’s like a force field inside her head.

Girl: I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need…

Prof X: Aaah stop it.. my head.. aaarrggh I can’t take it anymore…

Girl: Now you know how I felt. I’m a strong, independent woman…

Prof. X has begun frothing at the mouth.

Girl : That’s right. I’m breaking up with you. And this is for everything you did to me.

*picks up a chappati rolling pin and starts hitting him on the head with it*

Now you know why Xavier uncle is bald, permanently confined to a wheelchair and always carries an indignant expression on his face.

Scott Summers | Cyclops

Scott Summers is one of the veterans in the X-men line-up, but has had his share of relationships woes. Mostly due to his impaired vision.

Powers: Cyclops possesses the mutant ability to project a beam of heatless ruby-colored concussive force from his eyes, which act as inter-dimensional apertures between this universe and another.

Breakup story:

Scott met his then girlfriend, Rupali Gajanan Bhavathankar, at a college DJ party. It was truly love at first…’sight’ for them. As he fell head over heels in love with her, his friends cracked sly jokes about “love being blind”. However, that did not deter them and their relationship blossomed faster than plants in a greenhouse.

Until that one fateful day, when he accompanied her to a shopping mall.

“How do you like this top, sweetie?”

“I dunno. I’m blind.”

“Do you think these bangles go well with the colour of my eyes?”

“I dunno. I’m blind.”

“Ah hey! See this? Garnier’s new under-eye-over-eyelid-beneath-earlobes highlighting cream. I’ve been looking for this for days!”

“B-L-I-N-D. Get it? No?”

“Ooooh look! This beautiful Chinese porcelain vase is on sale for just Rs. 10,000! And they’re giving away free peanuts too.”

“Oh crap. I wish I was fucking deaf too.”

“What’s that sweetie? You said something?”

“Yes, I did. I hate this relationship and I want out! I’m the leader and headmaster of X-Men, not some Pappu Chutya who tags his chamiya to shopping malls. You hear me? I fucking hate you, you piece of trash!”

“I understand, love. But do you think these earrings make my ass look fat?”

“Alright. That’s enough of this shit. I’ll no longer look at the world through my ‘rose tainted glasses’. Die, bitch!”

*Scott takes off his glasses and incinerates her to ashes with his laser beam vision*

“Chapter closed. I’m moving on, man.”

James “Logan” Howlett | Wolverine

Logan a.k.a. Wolverine is the team’s most senior and probably the most unshaven member. He’s arguably the toughest guy on the team, but when it comes to relationships, he’s more of a bheegi billi than a wolf.

Powers: Healing factor, enhanced senses, and retractable bone claws. Has the indestructible metal Adamantium bonded to his skeleton, allowing for enhanced physical attributes and razor sharp metal claws.

Breakup story:

Mr. Wolverine is sitting at the table one Sunday morning, reading page 3 of Mutant Mirror and sipping on his adrak tea. His girlfriend, Parminder Kaur from Patiala, strides in.

Wolverine, who has extremely well developed senses, smells trouble.

Wolverine (to himself): *sniff sniff* Strong perfume…a hint of anger in the her walk…PMS vibes… man, I’m in deep shit!

He hides behind the newspaper and pretends he’s completely absorbed in reading.

“Wolfy, we need to talk.”

“Fuck it. Here we go.”

“What’s that?” (glares at him)

“Nothing, nothing! You were saying?”

“Listen.. I want to talk about our relationship. I think we need to work few things out.”

(mutters under breath) “Deeper shit. Logan, tu toh gaya.”

“Wolfy, I think you need to take a little more responsibility around the house. I can’t do all the chores on my own. No bai would dare to work for us because they are shit scared of your anger management issues, and I can’t devote time to my career if I keep running around the house all day.”

“So what do you want me to do? Should I stop saving the world, sit at home and chop vegetables with my metal claws?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to help me, Wolfy. I have a very important meeting coming up this week.”

“Stop pissing me off with your bullshit. And quit calling me Wolfy – it sounds like a dog’s name.”

“And you stop trying to dominate me. It’s annoying me as well.”

“You know what? I -”

Wolverine gets up and advances towards her. She grabs him by the collar and shoves him back in the chair.

Oye baith itthe tu, wolf de aulaad. If you’re a wolf, remember, I AM A BITCH! Tujhse sau guna badi kuttiya hoon main. Samajh gaya tu?

Wolverine gulps.

(rolling up sleeves) “Khasman khaneya, khotteya… nikamma na hove toh… tenu main dassni haan! Tu mere kol khade reh – pakad ke dho davaangi, haddi pasli ek na kitti taa mera naam vi Parminder nahi. Sau kutte mare hovenge, je tu paida hoya!”

Wolfy curls into a ball. His eyes have welled up.

(Showing her nails) “Aye tusi inn nakhuno nu vekheya? Tere saare waalaan nu noch davaangi main!”

Next morning, Wolfy packed his bags and ran away back to the wilderness, singing “Mahi menu nahi karna pyaar“.

It’s much safer in the wilderness anyway.

Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin | Colossus

Colossus is the Casanova among X-men. Despite having a name like Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin, he has always been a hit with the ladies. That’s because he has a power that no other mutant has – his massive, gigantic, Colossal organ that keeps throbbing and thumping all day long. I’m talking about his heart, of course. Ladies swoon and go weak in the knees when they hear it go dhak dhak. Score!

Powers: Able to convert into living organic metal form, granting vast superhuman strength and near-invulnerability. Can survive for long periods without oxygen or sustenance while in this form.

Breakup story:

All you need to know is here : Colossus: A Stud’s Story.

At this rate, he could easily qualify as a Bollywood hero.

Dr. Henry Philip “Hank” McCoy | Dark Beast

Hank is the scientist on the team. Some say he is the animal on the team. He presently works with all the X-Men, also is the team’s doctor.

Powers: Superhuman strength, speed, stamina, agility, reflexes, enhanced senses, ambidexterity with hands and feet, ape-like form, blue fur.

Breakup story:

Dr. McCoy was going steady with his crush, Jigna C. Patel. All was fine in paradise, until Jigna started suspecting him of having an affair with one of his patients.

Their relationship hit the rocks when one day Dr. McCoy returned home late from work.

“Hmm… you’re late today.”

“Yeah, a patient had come in at the last minute, so I had stay back.”

“You seem to be getting a lot of last minute patients lately…”

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me. Was this patient…a girl?”

“What? What are you trying to say?”

“Don’t play games with me. This is the fourth time this week that you’re late because of these ‘last minute patients’ of yours.”

“I am doctor, for Christ’s sake! They’re just my patients!”

“Yeah yeah yell at me.. you’re a lion at home, but you turn into a little kittenpussy in front of women.”

“I can’t help it. I’m a mutant, jeez!”

“Mutant AND a cheap flirt.”

“Sigh. Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Of course. Your patient seems to have sapped most of your superhuman power.”

“Merciful heavens! Give it a rest already.”

“No, you give IT a rest. I know what you’ve been doing with your ambidextrous hands and feet.”

At this point, he jumped out of the window and ran way.

Mr. McCoy didn’t report to the hospital the next day. His whereabouts are still unknown, although sources suspect that he and Wolverine are sharing a room somewhere.

Ororo Iqadi Munroe-Wakandas | Storm:

Powers: Weather manipulation (lighting bolts, wind, rain, etc.), flight by ‘riding’ wind currents.

Breakup story:

Storm was the only superhero to have had a perfect relationship. She had fallen in love with and married a local T.V. channel weatherman. Everything seemed just perfect, as if it were the script of yet another extremely intelligent Yashraj movie.

Unfortunately, Storm had no idea that the guy she had married was actually a one-of-a-kind scheming bastard.

He persuaded Storm into running a massive money-for-weather scam with him. Allegedly, he coaxed her into manipulating the weather and informing him beforehand, so that his predictions would always be correct. He would also sell this rigged weather information to other T.V. channels for dirty cash. On many occasions, he would force her to use her powers to change the weather during matches and win bets.

The worse was yet to come. One morning, without any warning, the weatherman sold the house, emptied their joint accounts, took all the money and escaped in a weather balloon.

As expected, Storm was angry beyond words, and that led to many cyclones, hurricanes and tsunamis in her locality for many days.

Moral of the story: never trust weathermen. They are all lying bastards. Use your own judgment and carry an umbrella.

Moral of the story (2): never trust men in general. They are all lying bastards too. Use your own judgment and carry a gun.

—-

Do you have an interesting breakup story too? Mail me your stories at sachin.spce AT rediffmail DOT com. The best stories win a box of tissues and my shoulder for an entire evening.