Janice in Blunderland.

The car passed by me at a considerable velocity. Unfortunately for me, there was a pool of putrid, possibly germ infested water close to where I stood. One of the tires of the car conveniently plunged right into the surprisingly deep receptacle. Thus a considerable volume of water was displaced and most of that slapped my visage with a force that was not as gentle as one would have hoped. The whole incident added insult to injury as the temperature of the city was very high, and now this: I was already in heat and this coupled with the fact that I was very dirty made normal functioning and behaviour quite difficult. I was then afraid that the high temperature would quickly cause the muck to harden on my body and subsequently make me look like one of the hapless residents of Pompeii in A.D. 79 when Mt. Vesuvius erupted and destroyed the whole damn town. This unpleasant imagery caused me to quicken my steps to a banana plantation which happened to be just around the corner. I entered the plantation as furtively as I could manage and plucked a handful of leaves, making sure that I only plucked one leaf from a particular tree. I did this because had I plucked all the leaves from one plant, the tree would have looked unusually bald and this would undoubtedly have aroused some measure of suspicion. The last thing I needed at this stage I thought to myself, was a handful of cops on my back for the stealing of a bunch of banana leaves. I then proceeded to wipe the muck off my body. Using a leaf for such an activity presented its own set of problems though: the surface of the leaf was smooth and not absorbent as of course was to be expected. This meant that rather than the muck actually being separated from the body it distributed itself in a uniform layer instead, very much analogous to spreading a blob of butter on a toast. The net result was positive nevertheless: I looked cleaner even if it was just an optical illusion.
The firmament meanwhile had decided to change its colour from a bright blue to the pale pink of dusk, or was it a pale orange; it was somewhat confusing to tell.

I made my way to the outskirts of the city. I was on foot as I had very little money on me.
The reader may smell something fishy at this juncture since a lot of time seems to have elapsed and there has been no talk about any morsels being ingested. Thus, to maintain the veracity of my account I solemnly confess that I stole a couple of bananas back at the plantation which kept me going. Anyway, so I made my way to the outskirts of the city.
There was a cemetery there and that’s where I planned to spend the night. A walk through the cemetery led to the woods which also housed a little lake. Well it was more like a large pond really. It was dark by the time I got there. The only light source, the moon, was not completely reliable as the sky was partially cloudy.

There was a tombstone near the area I pitched camp. It read:

In loving memory of
Mr. Charles Lesson
1869-1944
‘Here Endeth the Lesson’.

After I finished eating a banana (OK so I had taken three), I made my way to the lake for a swim. The water was at a considerably low temperature which made me shiver as I entered it, stark naked. It seemed that I had awoken a shoal of fish. I felt their unctuous skins brush past my body but I was at peace. The only time I felt slightly unnerved was when they brushed past my genital area. That wasn’t a very encouraging feeling.
I dried myself and made my way back to the familiar tombstone guided only by the scant moonlight and finally called it a night. But of course dear reader I didn’t sleep naked; I put on my clothes first. That’s a silly question don’t you think. It’s a friggin cemetery for cryin out loud. Do you think that I would risk getting sexually assaulted by a ghost randomly passing by me that I may have managed to arouse in the middle of the night?

End.

Limericks II

There was once a girl called Beth
Who took a lot of Crystal Meth
She first was overjoyed
Then a little paranoid
And eventually caused her own death.

————–

Bob sat on the edge of a beautiful cliff
And facing the ocean he lit up a spliff
But after a few drags
The seagulls became hags
He threw away the joint scared stiff.

————–

He appeared to be an innocent trucker
So Jim decided to make him a sucker
Jim’s pranks were crude
But this time was screwed
As the guy was a bad mother fucker.

———————–
End.

Polly put the cattle on…

No, the title is not a message by a boss to his secretary , Polly , to put the cattle on the line. One must avoid that kind of ‘herd mentality’.

Below is a conversation between two friends, an English cow (EC) and an Indian cow (IC):
——-

IC: Moo moooo !! Mooo moo moooo moo?
EC: Mo moo mooooo mooo. Mooo moo mooomm moo moooo moomoo. Moo moo moooooo?

(Oh sorry, forgot to turn the translator on!!)…..
————————–—————-

IC: Hello there!! Cow are you Love?

EC: I am fine thanks. It is very good to see you. I hope your journey went fine?

IC: Yeah it was OK, except at the airport here. Really beefed-up security..

EC: (frown on face) Hmm.. but I really wish you hadn’t used that last phrase. I don’t think you cows in Delhi realise how fortunate you are to be considered sacred.

IC: Yeah sorry about that. Yes we are a privileged lot I admit, at least in some parts of India. But it’s not all great I’m afraid. The living standards are on the whole quite abysmal…. Oh, before I forget.. here’s something for you from India.. a bottle of our finest BoVine. It’s a Merlot. I hope you enjoy it.

EC: Thank you! That is so nice of you!

IC: So what’s happening at your end? Whereabouts do you live these days? Same old shed as last time?

EC: No, I have shifted. It is at the ‘udder’ end of the town now. The shed is quite decent and the really great thing is that the guy who has employed me is a dairy farmer .. so no Slaughter-House Blues, at least for now and the foreseeable future.

IC: That is very good news! There’s an old Indian saying that goes, ‘good cow shed no tears’.

EC: Clever! Cow-shed… shed no tears.. I get it. (smiles) I bet you guys back home just sit on your rumps all day churning out such random sayings.. (slightly envious now)

IC: Yes.. ours is a life spent in regurgitation and rumination..(subtly condescending tone).. plenty of things to chew on. Putting it ‘anudder’ way, there is plenty of food for thought, thanks to our stature of sacredness.

EC: (annoyed voice). Your holier-than-Cow status is quite unfair I feel… but come now, let us not indulge in such matters (trying to cool down).

IC: (gauging the situation and changing the subject immediately)..So tell me dear, I had heard from someone that you had invested most of your savings in the stock market. I hope things are going well in that department?

EC: Yeah, the markets are looking rather bull-ish at present. I am expecting a good return this year. So yeah I think it is OK. But yes, I admit that I get quite nervous sometimes, the Steaks really are quite high you know (very animated expression on face).

IC: I can imagine. Well all the best with all that stuff. (They have been walking all this while. Just then they hear some music which appears to be coming from a cowshed nearby) Hey! Do you know that song? It is one of my favourites! It is simply moosic to my ears. (IC starts humming the tune alongside the song and also does a little jig).

EC: (looking confused). Um, I don’t think I know this one.

IC : (Totally engrossed in singing and jigging does not hear EC) . Honey honey yeah.. I herd it through the bo-vine… (It appears to be the bovine rendition of Marvin Gaye’s ‘I heard it through the grapevine. EC is a little shocked and embarrassed by IC’s frivolity. Even with EC’s four stomachs (cows have not one but four), she is unable to digest IC’s behaviour. Let us just say that she doesn’t have the stomach for it. )

(The two of them spend a few hours ambling and exchanging notes, occasionally stopping at the odd patch of succulent grass.)

(It is finally time to say goodbye)

EC: Well it has been lovely meeting you. Sorry that I got a bit heated up back there. But what’s a tiff between friends eh? (smiling).

IC: (smiling too) I agree. It was good fun. I hope to see you again soon. Take care and remember that no matter how dire things appear in life, always remain brave and never cowtow to anyone. (EC appreciates the maxim and also the intended pun. They say a loud mooo to each other and go their separate ways).

End.

Pie Pie Miss American Bye

‘Bootylicious’ and its hidden connotations: A ‘circular’ reasoning through the theory of Pies.

Assumptions of the theory:

1. If an object is delicious, it must either be a pie or can be made structurally equivalent to a pie. Therefore basically we could consider anything delicious as a pie. For instance, a delicious apple can be made an apple pie so on and so forth. Remember this is an over simplified model (in the spirit of a large amount of Economics research in general, where one could obtain pliable and often misleading results and conclusions without too much mathematical messiness).

2. ‘Booty’ is slang for the arse. (A more conventional meaning of the word is ‘goods or property seized by force or piracy’. However in popular culture this meaning is rarely signified, unless if implying the former ‘object’ in rather uncommon scenarios).

3. Without loss of generality, an arse which is delicious (and therefore a pie) is a queer arse. (like duh).

4. Any representation which is ‘dangerously similar’ to an original representation can be considered equivalent to the original representation. (‘Dangerous Similarity’ is a useful but nebulous concept in Representation Deformation Theory. We have used a particular instance of this theory, namely Phonetic Deformation. A detailed discussion of this theory or its underlying assumptions however is beyond the scope of this paper, and your mortal mind. This is because you would automatically resort to logical reasoning and trying to find empirical evidence for this theory, which would ultimately lead you to deem this postmodern approach as garbage. We cannot afford that now, can we.

————————

Now for the theory itself: The concept of ‘bootylicious’ was propounded by Beyoncé Knowles. She introduced it in one of her songs (‘…my body too bootylicious for ya baby’). The word is clearly an amalgamation of two words: bootylicious = booty + delicious. We note here the dichotomy in the usage of the word as both noun and adjective. Calling someone a ‘bootylicious’ is also correct English. We now apply the theory of pies to the word ‘bootylicious.  This implies that the booty is a delicious object. Therefore by assumption 1 of our theory, the booty is a pie. Or in other words the arse is a pie (Using postulate 2). . By using 3, we conclude that the pie arse is queer. Now comes the Eureka moment where we get an insight into Beyoncé’s brilliant mind. In the last section we concluded that the pie arse is queer. Let us analyze the 3 key words- Pie arse queer -We notice that the pronunciation of this string of words is dangerously similar to ‘Pi R square’!!! Since Dangerous Similarity has been ascertained, we now invoke postulate 4 and conclude that ‘Pie arse queer’ and ‘Pi R square’ are equivalent. Now we all know that this is precisely the formula for the area of a circle with radius R! ‘Circular’ reasoning!! We conclude therefore that ‘bootylicious’ rather than signifying a very ‘full’, wholesome and 3-dimensional arse, covertly points to a 2-dimensional, non-fluffy and non-spongy nature of the aforementioned object.

References:
1. The subjectivity of Deliciousness: A ‘taste’ of ones own medicine; manuscript I found in the bin.

2. How to make an arse of the world and other essays; E. Iglesias, P. Hilton et al.

3. If you think about it, it is ‘as easy as pie’; Forgot who wrote this one.

4. An introduction to specious reasoning and highly contrived research -Volume 1;  Prof. Dick Moby.

5. Representation Deformation Theory for Dummies as well as Enlightened People; Prof. Sarcophagus Nefertiti, University of Mummification and Daddification (U-MAD)

5.‘Bootylicious’; Beyoncé Knowles.

———– End.