Random blurbs

It has been so long since I actually wrote something. I don’t know why, I stopped writing. I used to write a lot. But now I just don’t feel like writing. Scribbling used to be fun for me, while now it looks like a chore. I think it might be because I have been quite happy lately. There have been no conflicts of thoughts inside me. For once I am happy with what I got. And not worried about what will happen.

I have always been quite a boring guy. I have no filter between my brain and my mouth. I just blurt out stupid things. I am no good in sports (of any sort), my signature carom shot: The striker goes across the board missing every possible coin. I feel sufficiently Ninja anytime I can take out the bottom piece of clothing from a stacked pile. I’ll often type a caustic reply to someone and then think, “Eh! Does such latent stupidity deserve such credit? And... Delete reply”. On principle, I never shake hands with a guy who says that he has a lot of time on his hands. I am one of those guys who usually go out in a torn sweatshirt and reduce the resale value of houses in society by 10%. I am that guy in a tense hospital situation who makes an inappropriate joke. I am always that guy. Not because I am an asshole. But because I genuinely don’t think I can say anything to change anything. I would just be more comfortable in a lighter moment. I love wordplay’s and use them so much that others perceive me as retarded. I think I am actually going to start smoking because I am not okay with the idea of someone else’s smoke killing me. 

Considering how lazy I am in the afternoon, u guys should consider yourself lucky that I make all my world domination plans at that time. I grasped Venn diagrams when a hormonal schoolmate explained, “the two circles are breasts, and the common is cleavage.” Mr Venn died that day. Nothing annoys me more than the Facebook orkutiyas adding and re-adding after you have ignored their advances. I think that if you can’t hold your drink, don’t drink. Slurring is not endearing. (In case of physical inability to hold drink, please check arms.) I always wonder how does one even make up their mind to become a proctologist for a career? Or an enema operator? 

I have costophobia, the fear of high prices. Every time I watch Spiderman 3, I have to double-check IMDB to make sure that it didn’t have the same writers as Double Dhamaal. If they had shown me the trailer of my life before I was born, I would have refused to take birth after knowing that it’ll be in 3D. I hope Jesus didn’t seriously die for *my* sins. If he did so, he did it in vain. I pay for my fuckups every day of my life. I’m thinking so far outside the box that I’ve began to question the box’s existence. I get physically uncomfortable when I have un-watched TV shows on my Hard Drive. I want to have a friend called Titiksha so that I can say, “Hey Tits what’s up”. And I don’t understand what’s everyone’s problem with death penalty is. I’m all for death penalty. Might make football bit more interesting. And Someday, just someday, I’ll find out why people use their fingertips to fan themselves. 

I have only a few moods. Flirty. Sarcastic. And sarcastically flirty. Sometimes if I don’t want to meet you on a Sunday, it may mean pure laziness, not dislike. Sleep > Everything Else. I always wonder if you take only a puff of ganja, will you be only pebbled. The voices in my head now have British accents.

That’s the way I have always been. I am shy and I am afraid of new people and I don’t have a clue if you like me. Come say Hi. So that I’ll know there’s nothing to be afraid of.