I've put the blog on an indefinite Hiatus (again). Sorry, I don't have enough time to blog anymore. But I will be back.... sometime. So please keep checking, and do not remove my blog from your bookmark! Later, homies!

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Funny Ads

Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Google Ad's these days errr... actually contextual Google ads these days are really random. And hilarious. So hilarious, it gets me - a moderately depressed lonely guy - rolling on the floor, laughing out loud. I could have put it ROFLOL, but I like typing long sentences. I'm nerdy like that.

contextualadroflol.

Cap's advice to me on depression generated a couple of really hilarious ads. Well, it was hilarious to me atleast. Contextual ads do have a purpose... to entertain and make people roll on the floor and laugh their ass off. But not for generating $$$, as I found out the hard way sad. Perhaps Google should rethink their product name... Google AdNonSense seems like a good idea grin.



20 Reasons I Want to be a Dog

Saturday, February 24, 2007
1. I could pee anywhere I want to, and no one would complain.

2. No one would complain if I grow/don't shave off hair in "unusual" places.

3. I could wake up and go to sleep anytime I want

4. There would be no stupid rules in "dating games", like "oooh, you gotta be handsome and wear tight leather pants and have a 15 inch schlong to get laid". Even a pug is considered cute.

Pug
5. I could fuck any random bitch (no pun intended) I want.

6. I could eat whenever I please. I'd just have to wag my tail at my dumbass "master", make a puppy face and I've just got my meal!

7. I don't have to take the pains to bath, someone will do that for me.

8. I just do some stupid tricks in front of chicks, and I've got myself some hotties for fans.

Dogs Bathing
9. There are no everyday human worries. I'd get to lie around all day in my doghouse.

10. I'd get to bite random people who I find stupid.

11. I would have atleast one best friend if I were a dog.

12. I could pant and drool over chicks as much as I want to and they wouldn't look at me like I'm some kind of creep.

13. I could get into a hot chicks lap by just wagging my tail.

14. I would finally get to hear what a "dog whistle" sounds like.

15. I don't think dogs suffer from bipolar disorder and depression.

16. No one would complain if I go around town chasing cats like they would if I did it now.

17. I have more chances of appearing on a movie if I were a dog.

18. There are no disgraces to Dogkind like there is to Humankind like Paris Hilton, Ian Benardo and Britney Spears.

19. There aren't any corporate dickheads in the Dogkind.

20. Woof woof!


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Wisdom of the Slim - 2

Thursday, February 22, 2007
English teacher: "In English, a double negative forms a positive. But there is no language where a double positive can form a negative."

Smartass Slim: "Yeah, right."

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...since I posted something. In fact, its been a while since I've been "normal". The irregular posting started about a month ago, and I've ever since been trying to figure out what the problem is. Self analysis is boring, and its something I can do without. I'd rather prefer a nagging girlfriend. But heck, I'm doing it anyway.

Below is a little "checklist" I'm making to analyze the possible reasons:

1. Bloggers block - Can't be. I have shitloads of material to post, some of them I can't because its not "news" anymore.

2. Depression.

3. Laziness - Hell yeah! I've always been lazy, more so recently because of the depression.

4. Deprsssion.

5. Lack of interest to post - No!

6. Depression.

7. Too much time spent on fixing and updating the template - I can't help it, I'm a perfectionist... almost *sigh*.

8. Depression.

9. Overtime on achieving xHTML validity - That is a bitch, but I had about 350+ errors which I've narrowed it down to 10.

10. Depression - I know I sound emo here, but fuck you! I am depressed!


I need professional help. I think. Or I should stop hanging out on MySpace, full of emo kids.


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Cupid = Asshole

Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Cupid is an asshole. After all, all he could hook me up with in the past were losers. The first one, a Dutch bitch (exactly a fucking year ago). Just when I thought I'd forgotten that episode of my wonderful pathetic life, the 14th of February shows up rolling eyes. Then Asshole hooked me up with an Indian whore (don't even ask) and more recently, the crush I had on hot chick turned out to be a dead end. She is the dumbest chick I've ever met! Dumber than the hot blonde chick with big boobs aka Pamela Anderson.

Luckily for me though, there is a way to vent my anger. I could join these idiots and go around town beating couples to quench my jealousy. You see, I get pissed off when I see couples hugging and kissing and I'm left only with little Johnson to talk to sad. Those extremist assholes may be ashamed to admit it, but I'm not. Not at all. I'm jealous. And little Johnson is getting depressed being all alone. Maybe I should register at some personals site. Maybe I shouldn't, because the love-arrow wielding sonofabitch might hook me up with a pedophile for all I know. Ah fuck it sigh.




Randumb Ramblings

Monday, February 12, 2007
Mariah Carey is me hero. She calls herself prude and poses for Playboy.
I'm forming an exploratory committee to explore why I shouldn't be President. Anyone interested in joining the committee may contact me.
Romano Prodi should just shut the fuck up and go back to Italy and handle his "tough coaliation Government" rather than kissing Indian politician ass.
Bipolar is on the rise I think, one of my friends has just been declared bipolar, along with a few others I know.
Pictures of Ashley Massaro turned me on, but helping my dad chase this wall climbing frog sonofbitch just now turned me off.
I've gotten even more turned off now, I just recieved a spam comment on the "New Template!" post (Thank you Cap and Lizze straight face).

Bad girls suck, good girls swallow.
Dimension Zero is one of the most underrated bands.
Operator logos piss me off. I don't like it covering up the boobies in my cellphone wallpapers.
I have a dentist appointment tomorrow and I'm shit scared of dentists. I hope I don't bite this dentist chick tomorrow.
This retarded wrestling fan would make anyone ROFL.
With all the talk about technological improvements and advancement of mankind, they still don't have a painless way of tooth removal/filling.
I remember a year ago, I almost had sex in a 3D chat, but the chick got disconnected and I'm hung like a horse ever since.
They say opposites attract, then how come super hot and pretty chicks never date me?
People think Mr. T is unintelligent because he uses what we believe to be made up words like jibba jabba. However those words are the answers to the most complicated mathematical problems in the universe. Mr. T. has known this his entire life and does not tell anyone because ones brain would implode if you tried to comprehend the question. Mr. T. pities those who try.

I think I need a shave. Down there too.
Rap, hip-hop and electronic music are the worst forms of music known to mankind.
The Dixie Chicks and Carrie Underwood don't deserve Grammys.
At this rate, Leonardo Dickcaprio and Cars are going to walk away with the Oscars
On the 0th day, Mr. T created God. Then he made God do the rest of the work while Mr. T pitied him.
This is getting quite lame, 'cause I'm not used to being random on short notice.
I hate it when I allow people to give free adivce, they don't... and when I don't want it, I'm flooded with free advice.
I want to post about the cricket World Cup and the Indian team announced for it today, but I'm too sleepy now.
I was going to make another random Mr. T Fact, but he pitied me into not doing it.



American Tard

Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Someone should start a show called American Tard and put all the idiots who audition in American Idol in the show. Sometimes these idiots try to be so funny, its not funny at all. And yes, unfortunately I watched American Idol for a second time. But what I saw in it was enough to make me never watch it again. Take a look at this retard...



Ian Benardo. He's even got his name on his T-Shirt in case he gets lost in Wal-Mart. And he wants to be the next American Idol... great. He is a superstar, a singer and a dancer. He is also a pathological liar. He even calls the road kill he found "wealthy fur". He must be the resultant of a family that lied to him as a child too many times about talent. He says he has two therapists... wonder which one of them shoved him off to the other.

His singing... I'm surprised Cowell, Paula and Randy haven't had a breakdown since they met him. "Gloria... Gloria...", what a faggot. We might probably see Paula drunk again on TV after that. And Oh. My. God. He actually says "thank you" after Randy is all Hypnotized. "Are you real? Is... is this real", Randy goes. Yes, he is real... a real moron. And Simon must be getting soft, his criticism was real mellow. Or he must have learned to deal with the mentally retarded. "It's just rubbish". "Rubbish? That's British for garbage?" Oh wow. Give the man a cookie, he actually knows what rubbish means.

I'm amazed Simon got bored, I was laughing my ass off just like Paula and the guest judge. He can have his face right there on the sign, but it would read American Tard. Or better yet, he should have his face on the side of a milk carton with "missing" written on his big forehead. I doubt anyone would claim to be his family though. And now, he's out there wandering the streets. Watch out people.



Harry Potter Helpline

Tuesday, February 06, 2007
For all those who laughed when I said Harry Potter sucked, here's a bit of news to prove myself right. Apparently, a retailer book store is opening up a "Harry Potter Helpline" for distressed fans. Hmm. That's gotta mean something. Something in the lines of "this series of books suck so much that it even makes stupid teenagers depressed".

So, two characters are going to be "killed off" in the "final" installation of the book. I hope one of them is Potty pants himself. If he lives, we can be sure Rowling would attempt a "the real" final installation when she someday becomes a broke, single mother again after spending all that British Pounds on luxury and "charity". Harry Potter Helpline, getting depressed (distressed?) over lame fantasy characters... this is proof that there are more stupid people than me out there. All the media frenzy, all that hype... British media and the media in general keep finding ways to go beyond rock bottom. Did I mention this was a third page story in our newspaper? What's next? Jade Goody's own series of racist books???

It seems anyone can make a quick buck by slapping in some goofy fantasy story and weird characters. In fact, I'm gonna work on a novel myself (with Cap's help, of course). Just add a goofy storyline, characters with corny names, made up words (right out of a bad dream), some sex scenes and we've just got ourselves a bestseller... and maybe a box-office hit as well, if it pleases the Hollywood Gods. Oh man, think of all the things I could buy with all that money... all that fame... all those hot chicks Cap and I would enjoy! Hollywood, here I come!



Party Rants

Sunday, February 04, 2007
Finally! I get to rant about the "party" I attended about four of days ago. It's a surprise I could hold it in for this long! Before I begin, this might seem a long post. But trust me, I've made it as humorous as possible. It's a good read (atleast I think so). So don't get all "oh man this is long" and read on. So with that said, let me get to the gory details.

We (My dad and I) were to go there in a rental car. A boxy rental car, actually. One with uncomfortable leg space. Well, any car I get in has bad leg space, 'cause I'm an unusually tall guy. Add to that, a little heavy traffic. One that won't move an inch for half an hour. Enough to make my crotch all wrinkly and painful. You would imagine traffic can be fun, given that there are a few hotties around in the nearby vehicles. That's a negative as well. I only find in front of me, 20 teenagers packed into the back of a mini truck, five of them sitting on the edge. And it's very difficult to look around for chicks, with all that smoky vehicle fart that some people call an emission.

So there I am, stuck in the fucking traffic, right. I start getting a little dizzy, with all that smoke. I guess no one follows emission standards. Luck is something when you're in such a situation, you'd find a way out of it... like turn on the air conditioner, and roll up the windows. Bad luck is when the boxy rental doesn't have an A/C. Really bad luck is when the boxy rental doesn't have an A/C and the day is realtively hot that you can't roll up the windows. So there I am, really desperate for a hot chick air. Clean air. I slowly start to lose consciousness. And then, a miracle happens. No, I don't see Jesus. The traffic gets a move on.

Not for long though. Fifty feet later, it stops again. Luckily though, in five minutes, the traffic is clear. We show up at the party 45 minutes late. Thankfully. I mean, whats a party without hot chicks in tank tops and revealing clothes, without drinking, without good music etc. Even if the party is a celebration of 25 years of married life (My sister-in-law's uncle and Aunt). Before I continue the rant, I gotta salute my sister-in-law's uncle, for its a great feat to have survived the 25 years of shit his wife put him through. No wonder he is prematurely gray, and bald. Well, semi bald. Okay, back to the party. Just when you would think it can't get any worse than not having hot chicks in bikinis, it actually does get worse...

"And how can it?", you ask? With stupid "games". See, this place was relatively small, but atleast 50-60 people had made it to the party. So it was naturally crowded. This place had four pillars right in the middle, forming a square. Imagine the roof having four legs, like a table and you'll get a clear picture. And for this first "game", all the 60 people had to go in circles around it when a stupid music played. Sort of like musical chairs. Each pillar was given the name of a city. When the music stopped, everyone had to "grab" a pillar, while the "conductor" would randomly shout out the name of one of the selected four city's name. Whoever were touching that pillar were out of the game, and the game continued till only one person was left. Oh. My. God Rolling Eyes. And its nothing to be proud of when someone wins this game, its as childish as it can get. But no, one of the elder sisters of A won (lets call her Loudmouth) and she started boasting. Like she had won the FIFA world cup for her team single handedly. (I made it almost to the end and almost won, if I do say so myself Giggle).

"HEY SON! TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!!!", Loudmouth screamed to her son. And everybody pretended it sounded funny and let out supressed laughter. Atleast I did. Then came the next game. For this one, all the sixty people were divided into three groups, and this game would consist of four rounds of tasks, and whoever had the maximum points at the end would win. "Ah, finally! Something that involves teamwork and could actually be fun!", I thought. I was going to be wrong, of course.

My dad was in another team, and he was made the leader of his group, which was not a big surprise since he is a natural leader. Loudmouth was the leader of another team (thank God for that), and some unknown person (must be a relative of A) was the "leader" of the group I was in. First round. The leader had to arrange the group members in an ascending-descending order of height, alternatively. Jesus H. Christ! Lame game, and lamer still when you would think this is as easy as it can get, but our "leader" sucks at getting it done. Add to it all the disorganized people in my team. It took almost an eternity to accomplish this simple task. Apparently every group had a majority of disorganized people, and no one had finished this simple task five minutes into the "game". Finally, when it was accomplished, our team came in second. Loudmouth's team was first (wow) and my dad was stuck with a team consisting 95% of disorganized people.

Second round. An annoying music would be played in a half arsed stereo system and all the group members had to dance to it. Whichever team appeared to be the most synchronized would win. Fuck that. I hate dancing to shitty music. And I'm only used to headbanging. Now, I had to follow the "leaders" corny dance moves. Going in circles. Wiggling your fingers in the air. Shaking your butt. The chicken dance and what not. It was chaos. And not surprisingly, we came last in that round. My dad's group won, which was a surprise since it had the most number of disorganized people.

Third round. This one consisted of the leader having to memorize all the teams' married couples' date of anniversary, and say it in front of the announcer/host/whatever you call it (actually, I can call her anything, but lets stick to "announcer"). My dad unleashed his memory power and it was a cakewalk victory for his team. The leader of our group sucked at memory skills, added to his dancing, organizing and leadership skills. He even tried to cheat his way into winning this round, which was pathetic since you don't achieve anything big if you win. Not even a cookie. I don't remember who came in second. Actually, I don't care to remember.

Fourth round. Last round (THANK YOU JESUS!!!!). Another memorizing game, and obviously I expected us to finish last. This time he had to memorize all the names of the team members. And you know someone needs a time-out when they can't even remember a name that has only four letters. The leader had to ask me twice what my name was. I don't know who won, because by the time they were announcing the "winners" of this round, I had excused myself to take a piss. I took the time to kick the walls and bash my head on the wall as well. When I returned, dads team had won overall and (surprise surprise) we had come in second. Nothing to be proud of, of course, but there were handshakes and whistling and cheering all around.

I was rolling my eyes at these pathetic losers, when someone announced dinner was ready. "Oh boy! End of heartache!", I thought. I was wrong again. Bad turned to worse. The food sucked to say the least. The soup made me want to throw up, but I somehow downed it (with much difficulty) so everyone would think I was a nice guy. Finishing dinner was a Herculian task. But when I did finish it, the announcer (the daughter of A, did I mention?) err... announced that there were random, spot prizes to be won, and asked everyone not to leave immediately. Wow, our first attempt to flee foiled.

Random prizes included "Who-has-the-most-number-of-credit-cards-right-now" prize, "Who-has-a-PAN-card-right-now" prize, "Well dressed couple", "Who-has-shades" prize and other lame prizes of that sort. Everyone were rushing to the front, like pathetic losers, to win something desperately. Oh my God, they even had a "Who-has-the-most-coins" prize, and Loudmouth rushed to the "stage" to show off her cheapskate skills. Oh my God. I mean, coins just kept coming out of her purse... 1... 2... 3... 45... 89... 694... it seemed like it was never gonna end! The announcer got tired and just shoved her the prize. I was surprised there wasn't a "Who-has-the-loudest-mouth" prize and a "Who-is-the-most-disorganized" prize. There would have been a lot of competition for that, though Loudmouth would have won the former without competition.

Finally, it was over. We found an opportunity to leave, and used it to our advantage. I thought the time would never come! I wanted to leave desperately. It was an evening dominated by Loudmouth, disorganized people and bad food. Though, I did learn something from this experience. After all, we all keep learning something from everthing we do. I learnt that I wasn't a pathetic loser after all. Atleast, I wasn't rock bottom. There were loads of people in the party, desperately trying to win something to make themselves feel better. I guess they must be sore losers in real life. I also learnt that I was good at making people laugh with my antics. See, I'm never myself when I go out. But this time, I tried being myself and it worked well. Looks like I have a good future in stand up and slapstick comedy. And I read somewhere chicks like humorous guys too, so its all going well after all! But I really hope I never end up in a stupid party again. And never meet all these strange people ever again.



New Template!

Saturday, February 03, 2007
Hope its not an eyesore. Well, atleast not too much. It's probably not complete yet, or maybe it is. I'm not sure. I'm too sleepy right now, I just want to go straight to bed. I've been working overtime on this, and it hasn't turned out 100% the way I wanted it. Send me your feedback, suggestions, cookies and whatever else you want to that might help me better this template. If you notice any errors/bugs, please notify me. Template fixes, the party rant I was talking about in my last post, more posts and much more coming up later. Right now, I'm off to slumber land.