Drako Fellatio

I couldn't even judge right. But you can't blame me. Being in a circumstance remotely similar to mine - you'd crap your pants. Your neon signs would start to flicker and then short circuit. You'd cry and not know what to do. You'd turn your engines off, maybe even strip and run around naked - on a beach. That'd be quite a scene. You stripping naked and running on the beach. I'd either throw up or intercept you somewhere down the length of the beach and jiggle with you.

But then, that wouldn't be right. Jiggling with you in public, if at all.
Does it matter though? Being right all the time? Falling into that trap. That choosy societal black hole that's full of all the rights and wrongs none.
Now, how laid out a life would that be. Only doing what's right. Imagine knowing beforehand, of the choices you'd make. You'd practically be living Utopia.
Where's the action in something like that?

Anyway.

Atta Chowk in Melbourne

This woman cried out loud from her balcony on the 9th floor, "bastard! whose car do you think that is!?" And spat out a blob of sputum at him. He didn't see the blob coming his way, and accommodated it on his shiny bald scalp with a loud plop.

The woman heard the plop some 1.2 seconds after she saw it land. She didn't smile till she heard it land. And the smile was a vicious one, let me tell you.

But him; he didn't care two bits about the goo on his head. And gave absolutely no importance to the verbal abuse he received from the woman. She screamed these words at him everyday.
Every single day.
Every single day of his life.
Every single day of his miserable, deaf life.

He just walked into the parking lot every morning and went through the same routine. That's all. That's all he ever did. Every morning.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, a father cried his bloody baby to sleep.

what a beautiful life

The population around me fails to inspire me and so does the environment. Things are too comfortable for me to try and rack my grey muscle harder. I've been cracking ideas that have really impressed people at work lately. But the problem is, that those ideas dont impress ME. And I dont think an ad is good enough, if the creator himself thinks its mediocre!

The self remains unimpressed. I need action man, maybe a break.
I have a week long trip planned to Kasmir next month. I'm sure i'll have lots to write about once im back from there. I hope. I mean im so uninspired right now, that writing ads for a living aside, I dont even have anything worthwhile to even write about in my blog!
BAH.

What makes it worse is that im nearly broke - and its only the 2nd week into the month. I've got only 40 bucks on me right now and 300 in my salary account. I even tried freelancing this month to cover up for my broke-en- ness. And got a good assignment! I wrote some 5 television commercials for this private university. The client bought them all in the first go - but then, the buggers wont pay in time. They owe me around 10 K.

And i have a nasty cold. And have grown a mush. Imagine! i dont even feel like shaving.
Bhanchod.

Fuck i almost feel like a chick on PMS for ranting so much.
Bugger.