Now I can sell my purana scooter, mobile, steam iron, mosquito repellant, khali botal, sole-less shoes, chhed wala socks, ghisa hua razor and practically all other junk stuff online....:)

Monoo and I have made up. Monoo has resolved not to support spamming in any form. Says the 'Sentimental Spammer Award' by FE shall be his last award in spamming. I too shall stay away from creative spamming. So tonight we'll be having a grand party. We three (Monoo, FE and yours truly) shall Fcook Chocolate Fcake and have it with plenty of Diet Fcoke. Everyone is invited. After all, 'F' is not a bad word anymore..;)

Detractors.....please stay away.

Cheers

Warning: The following post is dark, vague, abusive, way too below the belt, full of bad words and not appropriate for infants, 11 year olds, morons in the age group of 18 – 20 (or thereabouts), illogical nth degree e-relatives (e-baap, e-bhai, e-bahin, e-beta etc.) and all of those pompous self appointed apostles of righteousness who find the word ‘naked’ traumatisingly offensive. If such people read further, they stand the risk of getting
their precious egos inexorably tormented in the days to come.

THE STORY SO FAR…..

‘Someone’ called me ‘Fcuker’ the last weekend.

‘Everyone’ noticed.

‘Anyone’ could have objected.

Just ‘No one’ had the guts.

Come on, I too didn’t feel particularly measly becaz I have always known ‘someone’ as a good fren of mine (some spiritual words like becaz and fren have been picked up from recently posted gargatuan philosophies). Yes, ‘someone’ was a rosy dude, or so I have assumed, perhaps erroneously. Now, since frenship is supposed to be all about flaunting your bona fide colours and being true to your naked ideals, I took the comment to be reflective of ‘someone’s’ overwhelming desire of being immortalised as a loyal buddy. Don’t they say in English “a fren in nude is a fren in dyed (wool)”? Moreover, as everyone will vouch for it; ‘someone’ is widely believed to be an exceedingly polite, good natured and well mannered altruist with an overwhelming penchant for renouncing worldly possessions at the drop of a hat. Perhaps he was in a hurry this time, otherwise he’d have certainly asked for a polite permission “Excuse me Sirji, can I call you a Fcuker?”

To be brutally honest, I liked the whole idea. The word ‘Fcuker’ is not at all a bad word as it appears to be. See, everyone’s read the post, but hardly anyone’s objected! The more I pondered the more I realised that perhaps this business of being called a Fcuker was the best thing that has happened to me ever since I joined Mouthshut. This ethereal revelation cleansed my guts, dissolved my soul and moistened my eyes (shut up, it was not rain!). Fcuker se mera sir ooncha ho gaya!I mean, isn’t this fantastic? Fcuker is simply about the feeling of legitimate pride! All those who are someone’s bumchums must be feeling terribly proud of him.

We shall continue this discussion. For now I have professional commitments to abide by.

‘Someone’ just cannot call me a Fcuker and walk away unscathed. Some lines must never be crossed. All those who have abated the cover up shall now face the music. Today is Judgement Day. And I am prepared to waltz with the Gods of Annihilation in the Circle of Death.

‘No One’…are you with me?

Smita's review stays. And I believe that it will.

MS admin deleted Smita's review on Rohit yesterday, not because she reviewed an existing MS member (or that's what we are being led to believe), but, as I understand, on the ground that the said review appeared under the category 'Rohit Sharma the cricketer'. Rohit Sharma the cricketer is hot property in the Indian Premier League, worth a few crores in terms of endorsements and match fee. Mouthshut .com, a website dedicated to promiting consumer interest cannot be seen as displaying factually incorrect information on someone who is representing a prestigious team owned by a billionaire who is spending millions of dollars for promoting his glamorous players. Sentiments have no place in business. I expressed my reservations yesterday in no uncertain terms and I stand by those today. Mouthshut.com's action can not be questioned.

However, I feel that under the new category of internet friendships, Smita is fully justified in putting her thoughts on paper. If there can be categories of five best or five worst reviewers, surely there can be space for one best. Come on, this doesn't appear to ruffle anyone's precious feathers. So why delete this?

Hope what I said makes some sense. My posts usually don't.

Sudipto

CASE SOLVED !

I never fail to be amazed by the levels of energy displayed here on MS stage. I often think that if you could somehow wire the P,C, V, K and a few other terminals of MS together, half of the world's electricity problems would have been solved! Never mind. These folks are genetically programmed for generating a trillion megawatts of horsepower, that too on an hourly basis. Okay, a couple of units may sputter and yawn from time to time, but that's that.

Well, today it's the turn to review the profile of one of the most prolific stars here on MS Holy-wood. Having a hundred plus movies to his credit is by no means a mean achievement. Ladies and gentlemen.....presenting Michael Do-glass. The man, the machine, the unmistakable beard. His philosophy is strictly guided by his Bee-suck Instincts. Ever on the lookout for honies (plural of honey, period), Mr Do-glass, a man of immaculate and refined tastes, never lets go an opportunity to appreciate anything that is beautiful, and smells good. Unlike his co-stars who can sign upto seven and sing upto seventeen drinks, Mr. Do-glass calls it a day after two. This fascinating sense of responsibility has earned him the respect and admiration of his large number of fans, most of whom are Siren Stones themselves!

Well....Tame Cruise fell from his chair and became Lame Cruise for a day. And Spamela Anderson misplaced one of her.....er.....earrings. So both were unavailable for todays review. We shall try to accommodate Tame Cruise and Spamela Anderson with both of her....er....earrings....at the earliest opportunity!

Cheers
Broad Pate

The way we MSians are galloping (quite like horny hippos on steroids) these days, the day is not far off when Hollywood will actually sit up and start taking overt interest in its happenings. I mean don’t we possess all the glam-sham and chutzpah which has so far been associated only with a few assorted stars (and starlets) with ‘ample’ talents? Why, we have everything. Creative directors, spotboys, dialogue writers, lyricists ( a few disjointed wannabes too), actors, cockroach hunters, hunks, beauties, make up guys, made up guys, cheerleaders, extras, cinematographers, casting directors, villains, singers, recordists, reporters, editors, photographers, producers, flycatchers….whew! And everyone’s so good at multitasking too! So from now onwards, and at regular intervals, we shall endeavour to study the profiles of our in-house stars, with the aim to establish a full fledged industry parallel to whichever ‘Wood’ you may care to compare with.

We begin with George Looney, who is one of the most popular stars here. All his theatrics is based on the doctrine of ‘Fuzzy Logic’. He is currently planning to pull off one of the most daring heists of all times, and plans to call it MSian’s Fourteen. The heist will reportedly take place at Shangri-Lyla where Mr. Looney will drop from an altitude of 50000 points and escape in a plane! Mr. Looney has many other talents as well. His photographs (the ones he takes) are equally appreciated for their delightful ‘out-of-focus’ curves. A man of ferocious wit and unbridled madness, George Looney happens to be a connoisseur of everything that begins with W (wine….etc etc). Currently he seems to be a bit too busy, studying photographs and planning his heist from all possible angles.

We shall next review the profiles of Tame Cruise, and then of Spamela Anderson. Be prepared. Sabka number aayega.

Signed
Broad Pate

Hey..I said  - Lyla spotted.....and not that I saw a spotted Lyla, in case you start wondering whatever went wrong with her skin. Yes, our beloved Lyla was seen just about an hour ago at Jasmine's featured post. Lyla seemed calm, composed and in good health. In her brief, one-line comment, she expressed her candid opinion in the choicest of words as to what she felt about the changes in MS. In the end, she wished Jasmine goodluck. Jasmine was unavailable for comment on this momentous event (she hasn't replied to any of the comments anyway).

Three cheers for Lyla...Hip Hip Hooray!

PS: Lyla must be given a Z category security cover to prevent her being kidnapped for points. I already have a great deal of suspicion that a mammoth plan may be underway >:{

Somehow you just can't get Goa off your minds. Its almost a year and a half that has passed by, yet it seems as if it were only a couple of days back!

This diary post is, however, not to burden you with my memories; this is to share with you an interesting anecdote involving a Greek gentleman who happened to be staying at our resort while we were there. It was raining cats and dogs the day we reached Goa, and as we had just settled for our dinner in the resort's restaurent-by-the-sea, we were startled to the skin by a piercing shriek that tore apart even the wails of the incessant rain and thunder. My chicken xacutti got badly stuck in the throat, and I just about managed to survive by drowning that obstinate piece of chicken with some red wine that we had ordered alongwith. Once a bit sober, I wondered where the shriek came from. It appeared to originate from behind a partition where I could make out the silhouette of someone who seemed to be shuddering and swaying, perhaps in some kind of agony. Suddenly, the silhouette appeared to raise a hand....and a spine chilling wail followed which sounded like.."O..wataaa....o..wataaa"
. Then, out of the blue, the silhoutte shot up and rushed straight at us...right upon our table, grabbed the bottle of Bisleri and before we could really understand what was happening, finished off as if there was no tommorrow. His eyes then fell upon a jug of water on the table next to us, which he picked up and emptied in 10 seconds flat! By now, we had deciphered that the silhouette was that of an European in his mid forties, and were gradually beginning to doubt his intentions, when he appeared to sway again and looked straight into my eyes! They were red...bloodshot! I was mentally folding my sleeves, and had shoved the xacutti away (which anyway was extremely tasteless), when his eyelids appeared to droop, and he slumped on the chair next to mine.

"Wataaa....cheeli......" Th
e silhouette was barely able to squeak. The waiter arrived. Quite in a policeman like fashion, investigating the scene once the crime is over and done with. "Saar....he eat Goan chilli.....very hot." Moments later, two burly attendents arrived, physically lifted the poor victim, and took him away to his room.

We were introduced formally the next morning. His name was Papoudopolos or Scandalakis (or something like that, I dont quite remember). He was extremely talkative, and we soon knew that he was working for some Indian telecom giant, taking care of the optical cable network in Maharashtra. He said he was yet unmarried, and claimed to have 'embedded' a few fashion models in Mumbai, something we could neither accept nor dismiss. In support of his claims, he produced a few remarkable photographs, but in the absence of independent verification, the claims were taken with a pinch of table salt. One evening he sang a few Greek songs, eulogising the great Atlas, and explaining in great detail why he chose to shed his clothes. He was great company for the next three days. The day we parted, he had a glint of sadness in his azure eyes.

There are a few more of Goa pics in my photo gallery. Feast your eyes on some stunning and vibrant colours of Goa (including that of Mr. Papoudopolos!)
http://www.mouthshut.com/
Gallery/myphoto.php?user=sudipt
o33

Cheers

Don't blame me for coming out with yet another scientific thesis. There was way too much pain around for me to keep my eyes shut. Acting oblivious is a crime.

Yawns?! Okay...here we go. The facts first.

1. This is a disorder (almost everyone here accepts this as true)

2. It is deadly (anyone who dares to think differently??)

3. This is contagious (spreads from one to another almost instantaneously).

4. Except for a few shameless folks, almost everyone else would want to keep the whole thing discreet and secret.

5. Treatment is difficult, and often involves a lot of tomfoolery.


I know what this disorder is.


It is YAWN ROG....!


:D

Hu Hu Hu.....who let the yawns out ? ? ?