Currylingus

David Lynch does the weather! I don't live in L.A. but I do like to pretend I live in Twin Peaks. I will listen to this man's voice everyday, come hell, high water, or Bob.

One day I want to do a Twin Peaks Pilgrimage just like this guy Igor, who is my new hero. Thank you, Igor, you are AMAZING. He actually found:

- "the place where James and Donna buried the necklace"
- "the bed where Laura and Ronette were sitting", AND
- "the crossing where Mike met Leland and Laura"

That's detailed shit, not your usual 'here are the falls'/'here is the lodge'. What a great gallery, MUCH Respect.

I am never leaving home.

How lovely, one of my favourite people to bitch about is again in the news. Tom Coburn, Senator and DumbAss Extrordinaire, has been spotted giving genital wart-filled lectures at the Capitol (Washington Post). I quote:

"It is no small thing to ask an intern who is trying his best to mimic a working adult to come to a lecture like this in the middle of a workday... For the first few minutes, it worked, as Coburn flipped through slides showing dry facts and figures about STDs... He flipped to his next slide. It showed a part of the male anatomy but not as a science textbook drawing; this was the real thing, and a particularly sorry example; it looked like it had been left outside by mistake and then rusted in some unnatural way, with scaly dry spots, and warts on an angry red background."

Apparently he has been keeping this Capitol engagement seven years now. He likes to tell people that "condoms are only 69 percent effective in preventing HIV", did I mention that he is the chairman of the U.S. Presidential Advisory Council on HIV and AIDS? Yup. If you repeat the word ABSTINENCE over and over you will soon start to believe. Really, no joke. Also, the typical all-American child has enough of a noodle (due to a superior public school education & under-worked, over-paid parents) to realize that the tits on t.v., though positively related to pleasurable feelings 'down there', will really bring nothing but hellfire and a case of spotted dick. True, really.

Speaking of mammaries, here's what the good doctor has ordered:

"And I thought I would just share with you what science says today about silicone breast implants. If you have them, you're healthier than if you don't. That is what the ultimate science shows. . . . In fact, there's no science that shows that silicone breast implants are detrimental and, in fact, they make you healthier."

Time to start saving for some Double Ds. But wait, if I spend so much on boobs don't I have to show them off? Also, if I show them off, won't that lead to some form indiscriminate sex? So if it does, then can I get some sort of state-subsidized contraception? "NO!". What about condoms? "Only 69%" chance of them working. Umm, ok, so I shouldn't have sex? "YES!" But what if I get raped because of my massive breastices and impregnated as a result? "I favor the death penalty for abortionists and other people who take life." (Link) Forgive my logical brain, Tom, but that statement does not represent a rational syllogism. See, Abortion [A], Death [B], your Favor [C]:

If 'A' is 'B'
And 'C' is never 'A'
Then 'C' CANNOT BE 'B', YOU ASSHOLE.

With this sort of practiced and publicized rhetoric, is it any wonder that so many kids drop out of school to do drugs, have sex, and steal cars out of complete hopelessness and misunderstanding? I feel like smoking a big bowl of crack just writing about it.

I'm a hardcore lurker on Sepia Mutiny. My reading and re-reading is highly disproportionate to actual participation. So far I've sent them only two tips and commented a couple of times. Comments that make me read like a pompous ditz but I'll save that story for another day.

Anyway, they posted a wicked bit yesterday on Bangla Rock. One mention went to possibly the funniest man I've read in a long time, Arafat Kazi, member of a Dhaka band, the Watson Brothers. Right, so everyone remember "Drop it like a F.O.B."? At the risk of incurring flying spit, I thought it was lame as hell. Three reasons: the Snoop version was already in furious overplay mode at the time of F.O.B. release, the guy sounds like he's putting on an accent but doing it halfway so as not make an impression of actual F.O.B.ness, the jokes aren't funny.

Along comes Kazi and proceeds to blow all the gimpy Ludakrishnas with their as-bad-as-Sellers, ambiguous accents out of the water. Hear this now.

"A-one, a-two, a-three, a-phor, I'll phuck yor ahss ap!" Wu-Tang never sounded so good...all hail Karzi as O.D.B.'s (RIP) replacement. "Ail pee on yue laik a haause on phiyre! Waat! ".

Paris Hilton is my new Flickr friend. She's, like, so real, like.

Please, someone who loves me lots, please could you get me a Dubya cut out for my birthday? I think this is start of a beautiful cut out reveloution. Cardboard is ALWAYS ready for some action.

Oi Wolfe, per our chat earlier, this one's for you dah-link...clicks it to enter a whole new world of wonder...you are not alone:



(Fine, so our convo had nothing to do with crying but there was eating involved, so good enough)

Saturday was PERFECT. Has-lo and Johanna were in town (notice there is no link for Johanna, someone needs a bloggy, hint hint). They are the latest recipients of Rajbo's Certificate of Coolness. Ahem Ahem.

We started with nice brunch and moved on to walking all the way from West Queen West to the Waterfront. In between it was nothing but good times. It's too bad we don't bridge the gap 'tween cities more often. Has-lo and I once managed to live 2 hours apart for an ENTIRE YEAR without visiting. In that year, we hung out once, when both he and I flew umpteen hours to Alberta to visit fam. Doing much better, we are. Loves it.

Rajbo had a ball too, I'm super pleased. Rajbo like family. Rajbo very sweet. *aww* Just look at these two, why would you not love them?! You so crazy...



So, you dapper duo, get hitched already. No pressure. "OH NO SHE DI-INT!...just call me 'dapper' that is." *kheekheekhee* Tease, tease, that is wot you get for missing the after-dark festivities...

For a whole other side of the story read Cee Pee's post. It's MUCH dirtier than this one, mostly because I only had a glass of that Alize shite. I'm glad Ceeps and Mr. Mustache decided on that fine drink (2 bottles, gold & red passion to be exact). It made the evening truly magical, not to mention High Class. We met up with Rajbo's brother's girlfriend (plus friends) from Texas. I hear rumors she was an import racer girl. But she is the smallest, sweetest thing so I dunno how those rumors could be true. I like to generalize. The Texan gang like to dirty dance. BIGTIME. I mean, you couldn't just naturally saunter past them without being acosted into a friendly raunch-dance. I mean that in the nicest way. I think it's a Texas thing.

Yea, we were sweating it up that night. It has been a good while since I danced to tunes that took me waaay back. And I'm not talking about putting on a Jackson 5 record and letting it spin for all eternity, I'm talking about DJ Neil Armstrong and his skillful control over a vast array of oldies, goldies, and dancehall. Even with a smaller than anticipated crowd (M.I.A. playing same night) and a tiny, hot room, the night kicked ass in a big way for all present. It's not often that yI see every hand raised with every change in tune that is inevitably accompanied by a crazy roar. Anyone can DJ, match a few beats, refrain from making an idiot out of oneself...few can be good enough to be memorable. By the time Bel Biv Devoe came on I was soaked. BBD!

I think I promised Ceeps we'd go to a strip club next weekend. Rippers, yea! Scene.

Last night I was fixing to create a fab post about Saturday's going-ons. In between, I was catching up on the news and was left so horrified that my verbal spin just ceased. I stared in disbelief at stories on the Delhi bombings. So far, speculation has pointed fingers at a film titled "Jo Bole So Nihal", loose translation = "Blessed is the one who says God is eternal". Now have a look at the stills. Erm, Sunny Deol, are you retarded? Are you? Squeezing your tangy lime all over the festering wound that is Sikh sentiment in India.

Yea, I know, blaming a movie isn't the way to go. But in India, people do not have the luxury of criticizing any faith in the form of a Bollywood blockbuster. And this movie with its flaming religious title is not even an ideological challenge. It's a plain grab at attention. Stupid.

As for the degenerate turds that planned and pulled off this gut-wrenching event in time, what have you gained? Let me tell you. You have gained curses upon curses from people that have been affected physically, psychologically, directly and indirectly. Myself included. Now will you show me how to make one of those nifty boom-booms? You know, because that's the way it goes right? You gave now it's time to take?

I doubt it was the flick that induced a need to wreck havoc, it merely provided a perfect opportunity. A convenient atmosphere in which to create a dhamaka that would carry forth the word of...of...hmmm let's see, I'm not quite sure WHAT the message was. To scare people, yes, but to scare them into doing WHAT? Just simply, just because, just just? Arrrghh.

If someone knows the whereabouts of Rav-lo, could you please contact me to say that he was, in fact, no where near Satyam or Liberty between 8-9 pm on Sunday? Much obliged.

I've got a new method of styling the up do. Rajbo calls it "The Swoop". I call it "Hiding the Ugly Side". Perspective-wise, it has given me a whole half less. Who needs the other side anyway? Tomorrow I'm going to try it with a side-ponytail. Now if only I could do something about that damn pyramid growing on my right shoulder...

Mammy, ken ya git me one of em trash talkin Turleen dolls? "Bubba jr., git off yer sister!" Her words, not mine.

I used to be a superhero, after taking this hero quiz though I feel like a supertwat. But I'll post it anyway because who gives a fuckingfuckfuck.

My Inner Hero - Wizard!

There are many types of magic, but all require a sharp mind and a cool head. There is no puzzle I can't solve, no problem I can't think my way out of. When you feel confused or uncertain, you can always rely on me to untangle the knots and put everything back in order for you.

How about you? Click here to find your own inner hero.

Oh yea, they say: "...display the following on your web site to arouse their curiosity". Did it work? See, once you get your hero status you can actually go on missions. MISSIONS. I opted out of playing Dungeons & Dragons only to be drawn into taking this Scheiße quiz. At least the result is quite a compliment. *scuttles back to mountain to consult magic mirror*

Aw yeah, it's going to be one of THOSE fridays...these flyers are getting better with each party, no?

As for saturday, I jest don't know. Has-lo is finally going to come visit Ontario's armpit this weekend. I am uber-excited about this. Seeing as it is a long weekend here (go Queen Victoria!) there is much buzz and many conflicting schedules. DJ Neil Armstrong (czech the audio) is in town on sat. and so is M.I.A.. M.I.A. is prolly sold out. Prince tells me Armstrong is doing a prelim set at Reset from 2-5. Uff, I'm very impressed with this Reset gig. Kudos to this guy (on the right) and his bro.

I've been doing the My Space thang for a bit now, in a half-assed manner. I need to know how to get my page from this to THIS. Weeeee, more template fun (only this time in a non-html, mostly restricted manner). Hey readers, be My (Space) Friend, won't you? Just one more cyber page to have ("gayest ever") fun in.

Aftermath of Pawan post...

First thoughts...
moody says:
no its not what you think
moody says:
you are recognised but with your own efforts
ﺀﺎﻫﯿﻧ says:
what about like sidey idependent films
ﺀﺎﻫﯿﻧ says:
those dudes are always looking for fresh talent
ﺀﺎﻫﯿﻧ says:
you might have to take your clothes off, but thats ok, haha
moody says:
thanks so you want me to do sidey films
moody says:
hahahaha
ﺀﺎﻫﯿﻧ says:
seriously though, you know artsy fartsy stuff
moody says:
you just wanna see the chaddis
ﺀﺎﻫﯿﻧ says:
c'mon you can be the next rahul bose!
moody says:
hahaha

I am ChaddiChick. I make you want to show your chaddis with my moral-bending, inhibition-thwarting, Chaddi Rays, *bzzzzaaaaappp*.

Neha: RAJBO, can you attest to that, my pet?
Rajbo: What ever you say, here's my chaddis for today, they're the only ones I've got on, I SWEAR! Noooo, not the ray....*bzzzaaaappp*.

Second thoughts...
My mum has now moved on from 'hai hai'ing "apdo Pawan from the Moods Condoms ad" to 'wow wow'ing and whistling at his site. My not-so-little sister is drooling over his naked body as we speak (wait, Bairoo, didn't you tie him a rakhi or something once?? Go to your room!). Eeeww.

I - Boomselection

II - ZabaSearch

Two words is up.

I - If you haven't already noticed this guy in my linklist...can you say 'bootleg'? YOU WILL THANK ME [or else you are crazy. wery wery crazy.] Also, I got a chance to listen to some Lady Sovereign, who is really a sweetangelface. I'm mildly surprised. Jools MF - No Wax, currently playing non-stop. There are some crazy Daft Punk sets around as well, along with huge amounts of M.I.A. remixes.

II - Ok, so this second link is nowhere near as good as the first but WTF. I can't shake off this guilty feeling when searching for tzaba. 'Free People Search' indeed. You can pretty much find the name, number, address (w/ zip code, satellite view), credit check, pictures, WHATEV of ANYONE (States-side). Can't say I didn't indulge in a few naughty searches myself (read: celeb-hunt). Also, I can now find addresses for all my extended family in the states without having to call them, guess who's getting Diwali cards this year?!

Impressivley enough, this blog has not been filled with gratuitous nudity, as was originally planned. My once-upon-a-time/partner-in-crime,Pawan Setpal, has changed this completely and thankfully. Pictures first, story later, or wait, how about a story with pictures?

There once was a very talented boy who was wicked at everything. The stupid people of his high school (which will remain unnamed but not unguessed) never gave the boy any credit even though he won the school many accolades. This is because the boy refused to play the popularity game and kiss smelly ass. Instead, he became brutally honest and fought off snarky sour-grape comments, not by making such comments back but by spitting out the truth, "I'm the BEST". And t'was true so the comeback was always obvious (and LAME), "Oh, look at him, he thinks he's so great, how obnoxious"...



Needless to say, these uninspired comments did little to damage our man's self-respect. After having lived his entire life in the small bubble that is Dubai, the boy left to seek his fortune in Mumbai. Minus any personal contacts or millionaire trust-fund, our hero managed to get through engineering school only to become fascinated with the bright lights of the Indian fashion and film industry. He quickly realized that for him the job was not going to be as easy as "Daddy-ji, I want to be in philims, can't you call Chopra-sahab and ask for one role for me?". But he did not falter...



He worked incredibly hard and had to face many challanges. Last month, his efforts paid off in a big way as he won the prize title at the Gladrags Manhunt and in the process became the first ever Dubaiyan to ever hold the title. I had no doubt this would be the case, apparently neither did he...

"I didn't let the thought of losing enter my head even once. Once you let that happen, you might as well give up and go home. I came prepared to win - probably more than the others - and that is why I gave more than my best. Although I agree... that we are all winners, I can't help but think of myself as a little extra special!"

Atta boy, Cooks!
The moral of this story is...erm, I can't remember, I've been blinded by the nudity below...



...mama needs a cold shower...I mean, congratulations Mr. Setpal for kicking everyone's ass like a pro.

[Oh, and Cooks, if you're reading this and you soon happen to notice a bigass jump in your site hits, you can just thank me and my humble blog with its "one reader".]

I am the peddler of interesting (but ultimately useless) things. I've got a sweet dish for y'all today, tried/tested/true. Can you escape The Crimson Room? Find all 13 objects, use them on the environment, use them on each other, crack the sweet code and ESCAPE. Weee! Simple animation but not so easy to find everything, and once you find it, not so easy to figure out where to place it. Took me a good half hour. I had a hint, let me impart: the url you'll find on a piece of paper does not work, that site held a clue, a code in the form of 1994. This number is apparently the year the designer began doing his thang on the web.

Once you're done that room, move on to The Viridian Room. Started this puppy, it's really tough and quite scary. Then I found a skeleton and got freaked out, I'll continue it tonight. Must be brave.

This useless timepass was found by the darling Linkbunnies. [There, Mr. Cee-Ps, now you know my linky secret] What's even more darling is that they linked back to my humble blog, "Via". I knew that hideous spider was going to be popular, alternately, I knew stalking the Bunny Overlord was going to be useful.

Went bowling with the office crew yesterday. NOT MY GAME. NOTNOTNOT. My right arm and left bum muscle are in serious pain today...just thought I'd share.

Ooo oo oo, lookeylookey. Make your own South Park avatar!



Yes, that's me and yes, I do my own make-up. And this is Rajbo (alias D-rock), just how I like him, in mesh and yellow chaddis:



H.O.T. Oh mayn, this is waaaay too fun...

Soon i'll have the courage
To leave my thoughts behind
I'll give back all the knowledge
And keep the wisdom precious in my mind
- Three

...that's what the tune would be (just THIS part, over & over, like a badass karmic wheel), methinks.



This after pic is rather one-dimensional so I suggest checking out the project link for details, blueprints, and hot inside gossip...yea. Seriously, very very very cool project. It works in so many ways. First, the actual exhibition of this masterpiece in Dubai is quite touching. A mere two decades ago people flying in from India used to get their bags checked and their heathen Hindu idols snatched away. Keeping this in mind, the Omkara's exhibition seems refreshingly/ironically (dare I say the "S" word? No, not Sexy, foo, but...) Secular.

Second, Amrit(Raj) [I have no idea which one the surname is, kinda like George Michael] created this beauty from really thought-provoking inspiration. Two of his prior sketches to be exact:

"The first one uses architecture as an analogy to describe religion and deals with the concepts of planning ones life, destiny and the overall scale of a human soul to a religious belief. The second (my favourite) is a playful interpretation of religion as IKEA furniture - the primary concept being that religion stands at a point today where it has become a necessary feature to add and remove aspects of the belief system that we think is convenient and easy for us to follow - much like IKEA actually."

Amen and well-said. It's too bad more people don't think about their faith in this manner. After all, Ikea desks don't ALL come in yellow/plastic/one drawer for a good reason. One size never fits all. If people WANT personalization of material goods then most certainly they NEED the same for something as personal as faith, no? In Hinduism's case, this need for and fact of self-interpretation came answered and acknowledged in its post-Vedic founding texts. The idea that salvation comes to those who follow not one but any one of the designed paths is, to me, an admirably wise and foresighted feature. The essence of which is completely lost and muddled in today's 'us vs. them' philosophy that seems prevalent among many Hindus, hardliners and moderates alike.

Kudos, Amrit-jee, for your hard work and inspired spirit. Are you riding this puppy to Canada anytime? The National Gallery has this Trans Am with the Book of Revelations etched all over...it needs a friend :-).

My apartment is hotter than post-apocalyptic hell. My sleep is fitful, sweaty, full of nightmares. I've been cooling off at work, sweet a/c goodness. Hectic day this monday. But like all mondays, I'm keeping zen, thanks to Monkey Radio. Some people like highly energetic shite on mondays but they are fools for tempting the heart & stroke gods (not to mention the ill-mannered 'snap-back' gods).

Amusing queries on ye olde stat counter:

1. "children usefull timepass" - my parents don't even know about this blog and you want your kids to read it?!?!?!?
2. "matronly lady spanks" - spanks what? spanks you? yea, the non-matronly spanks just ain't the same.

I've never actually thrown a punch, this is the closest I'll ever get.

Ok ok ok, one last linky, I'm not even considering a preamble for this one, it stands alone and proud. This Art Project better have gotten an A+ or there's just nothing right in the world. Wow.

Spent the day with d-rock, shopping/bopping. It was really hectic but I managed a couple of nice purchases: Lovely green sexy librarian cardigan and gold aviators (so I can blend with the Dubai crew). Are they not kickass? Please address me as 'Sheikh' from now on...

YES THEY CAN. Well, here she be folks. Don't worry, this baby won't be breaking out in spots anytime soon...is it wrong to love a template this much? It may be bare but the non-dots will really do wonders for my wonky eye.

Feeling quite ill today, woozy from the meds. I'm blaming the freak snow/hail storm we had yesterday. Of course, I was in my spring jacket and did not expect the sudden drop in temperature. Now my lucky health streak has broken. I hadn't experienced even a sniffle for MONTHS now, which is great considering I ride the good ol' public transit and live in city with infinitely reproductive international strains of flu. Alas, how the Mighty ImmunoGirl has fallen.

Been so long since such a viral matter has coursed through my blood stream, it's a little intoxicating. My vision is fuzzy and surreal, my skin is covered in goosebumps that refuse to subside. My eye balls feel warm around the sides. I look like a poster girl for the apocalypse. Scary shizz.

When I'm sick I like to make full use of the toxic symptoms because they make me appreciate things in a new light. It's a psychedelic effect brought on by copious amounts of germs and meds. I like to stare at things all wide-eyed like a new born bebe. For this sickness, I'm staring at the following collection of photographs:






An entire collection is available and is worth the view. There is something about urban decay that goes so well with illness. Like the objects in these images, though filled with physical damage and neglect, are still really lovely. Yes, I like this decay, decay is good. At least it's not a war zone, decay is a much better legacy than a war zone.

Time to go blow my schnoz...

Bollywood, Bollyweird, Bollycat. MEOW! I positively love to play 'Hollywood Connection' with Hindi movies and now I can do it online, weeee! Bollycat is here, friends, to compile and catalog a comprehensive (read: MASSIVE) list of all "plagiarism and forgotten inspirations in the Indian movie industry". Sweet justice. Waaahooo. YAHTZEE!

======> ?????

I've always been aware of the manymanymany rip-offs but to see them all listed out like that is something else. I was surprised by a few of them too, like Black, Sholay, and the one movie I thought was so *real*, Khoon Bhari Maang! Oh ya, Lagaan doesn't escape either. Fak. Yea, some of the 'cats' are rather far out (see Dil Chahta Hai) but it's all in good fun innit? Can't hardly wait until the song list comes out...

I know what YOU want...MORE COWBELL. That evil Bride of Cymbal. That *tonk tonk tonk*. You wants it! WOOOOOOOOOOO, you know you want it, you want it bad! Finally found the CLIP. I know, I know...and you're most welcome.

Mein Gott im Himmel, mama needs a tall drink, a tall drink of Hasselhoff that is...



Oh India, land of extremes and everything in between, it's no surprise the glitterati simply HAD to escape all the bad vibes to hold their *exclusive* Bollywood awards. Where? At the bleedin' Taj Mahal in ATLANTIC CITY. Believe me, I can't groan any louder than I already am. I suppose this gives the industry some of that Amreekan glamour, you know, that Western validation. "You poo poo Indian masses, look where we are, U.S. of A. with multiple entry visa!". Carrying on with the most amazing story at hand [breaking report and gorgeous pic courtesy Sepia Mutiny.]

The "Best International Star" award was given to DAVID HASSELHOFF, ye of immortal existence. This award comes a few years too late for the much of the world but the desis, they lao their Hasslhoff. This man's career seems to be heavily dependent on such glimmers, now you see him, now you don't. And when you see him you can't help but wonder "who is his plastic surgeon and is he taking new clients?". Nonono, I'm not ranting, I'm impressed as always to see The Hasselhoff in all his tanned glory.

I'm just a little disillusioned by the state of affairs. The awards are held in Non-Resident (Not Really) Indian territory because in these parts we pay for Bollywood services in dollars. But the 'awards' are dished to people mostly if they show up. With the exception of Shah Rukh Khan, who didn't show up but won anyway because who else would the "Best Actor" award go to? Sunny [juiced to high heaven] Deol??? Please. The awards are catering to an N.R.I. audience without actually giving props (that I know of) to N.R.I. talent. Oh bitterness, if The Hasselhoff can get an award then so can my beloved Kal Penn, no?

Some wonderful insight can be found at Yahoo News, from reading this article it will become clear to one and all that there is no stopping The Hasselhoff and his illusions of world peace through memorably bad television.

[Why do I insist on calling him The Hasselhoff you say? C'mon now, show some respect, the man's 200 years your senior!]