Not Artois Enough

Something that got bombed at the agency today. But i love it.

9 steps to a perfect first date

1) Sport a slight stubble. Shaven to the skin, is well, just gay!

2) Before picking her up. Make sure you’ve left no trace of gum residue on the windscreen, while you peeled off that “rent a car” sticker from your Bentley.

3) Needless to mention, wear your best attire. If she was the kind who didn’t care, you wouldn’t have needed that Bentley.

4) You don’t want to scare her with your love for BDSM on the first date. Your hold must be gentle when you greet her.

5) The first three pages on “greatoneliners.com” have been abused to death. Arm yourself with jokes, the 4^th page onwards.

6) You don’t want her to know that your familiarity to Italian Cuisine is limited to just pizzas. Take her out to a Lebanese restaurant – she’d be equally clueless.

7) Never order cola. You know you can’t hold that burp in.

8) No matter how big and mushy, talk to her not them.

9)Save this ad for future reference.

Ode to Tenzine

my shite.
Hot and mellow, almost yellow,
In thine eyes i see.

For a reason not known to man,
you continue in continu-um
and try. In vain.
To reach the divine shite
with your waggy tongue.

my shite.
Eat it.Bitch!

When trance is psy

The nuclei collapse into balls of light, giving birth to a plethora of colours. Photons shoot out of a vacationed fissionary school. The tribe shakes its ends in the air, trying to catch them brights. Sounds of intermittent bass lines surround and then fade into clicks. And then silence.
Human Choirs try in vain to emulate sounds of the ocean.
Engulfed by flashes of light, white light. The tribe waves at the pepper haired man on a podium. He responds by throwing a sphere of sound at them. They die. Instantaneously.

This being my favorite psy night of all time. till date.
Raja ram came down to gurgaon. killed it.

My weekend

I am so motivated to travel right now that i could just jump into my untrustworthy zen and drive fucking off. Anywhere. I'd love to be anywhere but fucking here man. Not that being here is killing me - it's just that off late, ive realised what a rush travelling is! A rush that stays with me for a while, even after Im back. The excitement makes me perform better. At work, at sex, on stage. I usually come back not only refreshed, but driven!

However, travel i'd like to - without any baggage. at my own will. The way I want to , where i want to. i want to take along just the self. "Into the wild". Its going to be my plan and its going to be my trip. and i think im going to do this around the 15th of this month. I'd probably head for the mountains up north. I'll end up broke in the middle of the month if i do this - i know. But What That Fuck. I'll do this. I'll fucking do this.

inlackofspace

thispostisntgoingtobetoolong.Butthecatchliesintheabseceofspacesbetweenwords.andthat'sthebeautyofitforyoucanreaditthewayyouwantto.Englishwillnotbindmydearfriends!thisisthepowerofperceptiontoitsmaximata