ANIMATE YOUR PROPOGANDA WITH BREASTS AND GRATUITOUS VIOLENCE.
Right on. He said it, not me, and I am jealous.
Archive for October, 2006
My Wit Dazzles Bushy Bush
16
Oct
… and my madness elicits pity.
Ah, the vagaries of Google talk conversations:
Sushubh:
sup dude
samrat:
uploads! deliverables! milestones! guinea pig rape! skullfuckery!
Sushubh:
yey :\
samrat:
much nonsense is afoot, my friend
Sushubh:
samrat:
my only solace is John Ottman’s wonderful music and people on my google talk who keep reminding me that the world is sane, and the earth is not indeed, purple
Sushubh:
oh no
world is not sane :\
and the world is actually blue
samrat:
there you go disturbing my inner feng shui again
more coffee for me
devi, dammit
don’t run away
Sushubh:
i want some crappy office coffee 
samrat:
yeah well, you can come to my office and bloody well have the worst office coffee in your entire existence
Sushubh:
samrat:
it is distilled from evil itself using the tears of slaves and black hearts of donkey raping lawyers
the milk is churned from the blackest cancer stricken cows from calcutta
Sushubh:
hmm i think i would rather go to a ccd 
Sushubh:
samrat:
and i wil put this conversation on my blog, so that i can look at it and wonder at my insanity at a saner hour
Sushubh:
http://www.comics.com/comics/dilbert/archive/images/dilbert2732960061016.gif
samrat:
i will not cease ion my endeavours to make you famous, oh yes
Sushubh:
u would not want to live ur life depending on the mood swings of google
samrat:
you wouldn’t want to live your life as a corporate whore either so i guess the grass, as always, is yellow, burnt, and un cow worthy on our sides of the fence
Burning Bright
11
Oct
Today happens to be the birthday of a dear old friend of mine. I haven’t talked to him in a bit now, but there was always something about him – calm, relaxed, funny, and so damn sure about himself most of the time – that makes one miss him, rather never not miss him, all the time.
Another thing that always stood out about him for some people was his misanthropy. Not very natural for someone who would make friends in an instant, you understand. He could walk up to anyone, anyone, and make good fast friends with him in 15 minutes. His was a very likeable personality too, and something about him made rank strangers trust him with their personal details. And yet, it would appear to most casual observers that people, in general, infuriated him sometimes. Even by his own admission, he had little patience with stupidity. This had nothing to do with you, I swear.
He just loved life. He had such an appetite for life and the living of it, that he would positively reek of it. He would talk to you, and see through you in 5 minutes. Your ambitions, your talents, your damn potential, really, were all laid bare and asking to be understood in front of him. And you disappointed him by never seeing those yourself. He had such high hopes for the potential people had in general and most he worked with, studied with, in specific, that he felt personally let down when people let the vagaries of life get to them and give up every thing that made them sparkle. He wanted everyone, including himself, to write, sing, dance, compose, draw, photograph, run, fight, and live live live so much that he took it personally if you ever gave up.
Give him a birthday gift this year. Do whatever gives you the most pleasure. Create something you can call your own. Give up being a corporate whore, and start being yourself. Follow that dream you never seem to have time for. Like they say, don’t wait for the next raise for the fancy Reebok shoes. If you have to run, you damn well start running in your chappals. Go talk to the friend you always take for granted. Give my friend a birthday gift this year. Live.
He passed away August this year, about 2 months short of his 27th birthday. I have a feeling if that fairy tale about dead people becoming stars is true, he is right up there urging the other stars to burn brighter, c’mon guys. And he is frustrated by the ones who don’t at least try.
Happy Birthday Keshav, mate. I’m glad I could call you a friend for a few years. Many didn’t even get that privilege.
