Currylingus

hello my lovelies, here's a big fat




courtesy of kastner's flickr tool. how fun, weeee! big thanks to EuroCanuck for the intro. how did you know i love random pic tools?! lovely to see you're spreading some canuck love in euro-land...when the going gets cold, the cold get a-skiing, huh?

bob dylan is thick, yo. call me fubar but i just can't see the resemblance. i mean, can you imagine the situation reversed? UGH. bob dylan's booty? no thanks.

some people read the bible, some the gita, others the pali canon, and some more read the quran. they do so to keep themselves centered, gain guidelines, meditate on the 'word of g*d' and so on. me, i read frank herbert's dune. which i happen to think is the singular most effective and comprehensive piece of religious literature, dialogue, and analysis in all existence. i am a sci-fi geekazoid, yes. but that does not in any way make my sweeping statement untrue.

just have a gander at these quotes that i have plucked from my much-underlined dune series. so relevant, so wise, so kickass.

The cynical view. And rulers are notoriously cynical where religions are concerned. Religion, too, is a weapon. What manner of weapon is religion when it becomes the government?
-Edric

[...and it follows...]
When law and duty are one, united by religion, you never become fully conscious, fully aware of yourself. You are always a little less than an individual.
- from "Muad'Dib: The Ninety-Nine Wonders of the Universe" by Princess Irulan

He who controls Arakis, controls the Spice, and he who controls the Spice, controls the Universe!
- Baron Vladimir Harkonnen
[replace 'spice' with 'oil' or 'money' and voila...too easy.]

The innocent do not believe in evil.
-Scytale as Lichna
[preach it, frank, YEAH!]

[and my personal favourite...]
What is more ridiculous than a Death Commando transformed into a priest?
-Paul Atreides

as if the controversy over gay marriage lacked a certain tang, THE authority on sikhism has declared

The Sikh religion would never accept such MPs,nobody would support such a person having such dirty thoughts in their mind because it is against the Sikh religion and the Sikh code of conduct and totally against the laws of nature.

...said the Vedanti (speaking of CANADIAN members of parliament vs. the gay marriage bill) FROM AMRITSAR. why some folks come so far to tell others what to do with their lives...is completely beyond me. but what a way to gain an audience, whoo boy, he may as well have shot lightening bolts out of his retinas.

some have been driven away by sheer terror of anomy but not mr. navdeep bains, nuh uh. impressive. bad indian boy.

i'm back from a ruthlessly imposed blog hiatus. that's what you get for falling in lowe with a serious techie, moving in together, and purchasing only one computer (our 'baby', his name's REDOXON). awwww, ain't that the cutest. the best thing about having a computer as a baby is...getting another one to make a relationship that much better is the RIGHT thing to do.

this past long weekend was a holistic exercise in Relaxo-Rage. that's relaxing after raging to get to the optimal relaxation point (often known as 'the weekend'). relaxo-rage is a type of fast-paced relaxation, fuelled by rage momentum.

our relaxo-rage adventures took D and i to a very special party on saturday. it was a two in one event, celebrating the 'happy birddays' of one Prince Fantastik and his wife...err, i mean, best friend...Homesick Immigrant. any house party with its own flyer is a good time by me, here's the terrific flyer:

that's Homesick, looking rather homesick. Prince did not get his own flyer as his birthday was almost two weeks ago...the flyer-less Prince was out in full form regardless. sporting an unmentionably 'classy' teenage millionaire tee, he did as much damage as a drunk uncle at a jehovah wedding. at one point i caught Prince stroking his growing belly and i saw a tear roll down his sweet face, as if saying, "i know, belly, i know youse wanting one more, but the drink is all gone, luv".

one of our hosts for the evening was a certain lady named Lease and she kicks auntie-butt. i googled a name i saw in much of her art and found her website,surface photography, wee! her photography is a powerful portrayal of man-made landscapes, urban life through a romantic lens. detailed, thoughful, comforting, and above all, aesthetically orgasm-inducing, in mine nethers anyway, wee!

Fantastik party, thank you, have more birthdays, make more blog entries, send softcopy of 'get juiced' party flier, k? :-)

so ya, the Prince and the Immigrant lived happily ever after...*happysigh*

kabhi kabhi, mere dil mey, khayal aata hai...

hey cee pee, i got your prezzie right here.



you know you want it.

now in other gossip, we've got a satan-sighting, there are not too many of those around nowadays. and he's looking mean.

"The marking on the shell was like the devil wanted us to know he was down there"

i know i would never sleep if i agreed with that. a hideously alien creature sending me scary messages from the beyond! i'd split into a few personalities instead.

the other day i was watching the hour, george did a story on this guy who sits in his basement and makes songs for a living. not that much of big deal, right? i thought so too until the sheer talent and tomfoolery of his work kept me awake...listening to track after track after track...

[addiction, you say? of course, that's the currylingual way, spice don't stop for nobody.]

the basic idea is, you request a type of track (eg. "something about rain and turtles") and he makes a tune. you can also relate requests to lyrics, moods, dedications, remixes, and the whole she-bangs. if you are broke-like-me then your free request enters a massive pool, keep fingers firmly crossed as you hope and pray that the maestro will see it fit to produce your request. if you're high-rollin, then pay the man dammit!

i made a request last week, it was a free one, still no sight of it but i'm hopeful...so darling readers, request some tunes, it's a race, yeee-haaaw!

bill's been giving me these bedroom eyes all night! i think it's working. maybe it's the rayon he's oozing. rrrrr.



watch out for the floppy! ha!

wait a minute, that's a genius idea! stripperpixie!

someone, ANYONE, stripperpixie is in dire need of creation. don't forget the areolas...

my weatherpixie apparently turns into stripperpixie in warmer temperatures. she showed up to work today wearing a see-through pink shirt (minus brassiere), standing around all coy-like y'know. her maker didn't bother drawing any nipple pixels so she ended up looking real strange.

the wench and i have parted ways, she's off revealing herself to a select group of null-nipple fetishists. i have taken on a new edition pixie, hope her kimono can stay on for a at least a couple months...

[Note: this is 'just' my side of the story.]

the following symptoms have been observed of the subject (d-rock):

crazy look in eye - involuntary dilation of pupils when matter of opinion or desire arises, directly actions the expression of opposite opinion or desire by subject.

foaming at mouth - almost entirely related to the 'halving' of nicotine patch, step 1. definite attempts made to seize this observer's half by pretending to give hugs.

spewing delirious psycho-babble - "you need some girlfriends, to do girly stuff with, it would be good for you", "just because i don't want to go outside, it's rainy, late, cold, what-ev, does that mean that YOU have to say you don't want to go outside TOO? HUH? HUH?", and so on.

unhealthy behaviour patterns - eating poutine AND kosher pretzels for DINNER, making repeated clawing motions at this observer, while proclaiming "REEEOOOWW, MREEOOWW".

people, i am afraid. i opted for a man and got a rabid wolverine instead. he is mighty cute so i stroked his fur, he calmed down greatly, i think it was more the new episode of surreal life that he'd been waiting for all week.

the winter has been tough on all canadian creatures. cabin fever has reached a heated pitch, march madness has ensued. my pet is tired of looking at my face all day. i need to get out more.

are there any girls out there that want to be friends? i don't like: shopping with a group of people, getting manicures/facials/etc., watching 'date' movies. if you qualify and share my distaste then please, hook a sista up.

excellent surfing clip here...

i solemnly declare that i will surf at least once on a decent size (about 2 feet) wave before i die...

tonight's special, bringing you some old-time classics:
"For a century and a half now, America and Japan have formed one of the great and enduring alliances of modern times."
—Tokyo, Japan, Feb. 18, 2002

and new favourites:
"This notion that the United States is getting ready to attack Iran is simply ridiculous. And having said that, all options are on the table."
—Brussels, Belgium, Feb. 22, 2005

ascii animation has become the cutting edge of ubercoolness, in my world at least. lots of little squiggles everywhere and a lack of colour aside, some fellow poured gallons of blood and sweat down the cyberdrain to come up with this brilliant showcase. check the movies section for a good dose of animated matrix and herr der ringe (no prizes for guessing the title in english).

what makes this type of cartooning around particularly fun is that it's all in german. woohoo! this means you get to read the title, eg. "Schmusekatze", and think, "woa, someone sounds angry!". then you view the animation and it turns out to be really cute little kitty. ha!

oh bavaria, your angry tongue is but a cover for your soft, creamy sensibilities. mmmmm...bavaria...

for a news junkie like myself, yesterday was like heroin to the head. by the time i finished realizing and aggressively debating the colourful menage of items, i was left breathless. nevertheless, o ye faithful, i will spew some more:

• the wolfowitz appointment - vai no bono, vai? as a result, the world bank will play host to the very first "Developing Death Match", where contenders from developing nations will get greased up to fight each other in a metal cage...TILL DEATH *gasp*. only people from poor, starving, conflict-ridden, and disease-stricken countires need apply. the DDM will be refereed by condi rice but since there are NO RULES she will spend most of her time scowling offensively.



• bernard ebbers - life in prison. terrible sentence, shows a complete lack of imagination. they should've taken all his possessions, put him up in council housing in alaska, NOT on the bleedin' dole but on a strict schedule of the "milk distribution engineer" type, just like the good old days...hey, it's less expensive than paying for his ass in prison.



• robert blake's aquittal - bonny lee bakely has saved her man's life by ruining her own. i found it difficult to see beyond her past to a guilty blake. i am not surprised that the jury had a similar problem. that said, the evidence was heavy on the circumstantial side. now, robert, go do another lost highway for us and make yourself usefull will ya?



• air india trial finale - not guilty. i've got nothing smartass to say about this one. the verdict has taken 20 long years, the kids orphaned as a result of the air india bombings are now adults. very angry adults. yet not many of them have been asking for blood, only justice. not death, but recognition of guilt. that, friends, is a noble sentiment. it breaks my cold, stone heart to pieces.



• scott peterson - death. not a surprise by ANY means, not even in cali.


and lastly but i'm sure not the 'leastly',


• MJ - *sigh* the saga continues...don't have much to say about him that hasn't been said already. i'm just listing him for the link, check that page out. the brits have gone completely barmey over him, there seems to be a new king around london town. even the guardian for chrissakes! my obsession with this trial is thus validated...ahem.

over & out.

let's go waaay back, shout out the dxb crew, y'all remember jug suriya's column in the khaleej times weekend mag? well, i sure do. sometimes a style of writing that was read in the past, when read in the present, brings back a torrent of memories. so i'd like to share the latest installment of 'jugular vein' (courtesy the times of india).

and now, for a little funnyfunny. this is what i do to sleeping interns:


[shukriya, samir, aa badhi fine fine links matay]

...i would use this to create oodles of collages...of kal penn, of course:



i would plaster them, first, in the study (read 'closet'), then the dining room (read 'where my compu sits'), then the living room (read 'ugly couch-land'), and finally, in the bedroom (read 'eden'). at this point my mayn (that dude i live in sin with) would start worrying. and there would be no more harold & kumar for neha.

ah yes, every stalkey stalkerson needs a good montage generating application...

no, this post is not about stalking (again!). it is about grant robinson's genius. i've never had so much fun on a web-site (sounding like a big ol' agoraphobe aren't i?). you'll see what i mean. czech out the man's portfolio. he is truly wunderbar. all projects on main page are brilliantly crafted, who the hell knew inter[net]action could be so JHAKAAS!

spent last night watching 28 days later, very good phlim indeed. i highly recommend it to anyone in the mood for a zombie flick. story was quite a bit meatier than dawn of the dead (04 version). dawn wasn't bad, but the roots store in the so-called american mall just ruined it for me (the actual mall is a few minutes from where i work...in TORONTO). it's all about the details, innit?

with post-modern thoughts of the impending apocalypse fresh in my mind, i turned my attention to a brilliant doc on the aids epidemic on cbc newsworld titled, a closer walk. it's playing again at 10 pm tonight (eastern). for the amreekans, i dunno if your soul-less news networks are on to this puppy yet but check out the film's website for more information (trailer here).

a very educating, deeply saddening work. the segment on india is particularly shocking. the spread of aids in india is still only fresh in recent memory (in the history of infection). but it serves up a far worse future with incredibly high population growth.

one can't help but wonder:
1. why should it have to cost $500 a day for mass-produced drugs to stay alive?
2. why in india, do enough high profile actors/businessmen/socialite extraordinaire (i won't say politicians, that case is hopeless) not play a bigger role in the charity circuit?

...and why does charity not appear in any media spotlight, at least in my experience? there aren't too many 'for a good cause' type events to be read about in the countless glam rags. just a goodwill attempt or two of a bejewelled starlet opening her sister's, husband's, brother's, son's homeopathy centre. i'm not knocking the homeopathy, just the apathy to do anything that doesn't involve 'scratching' people's backs. you know, use the force us entertainment-starved masses have bequeathed on you to do something other than just fuck-about.

excuse me, i'm ranting...but you hear me, watch the doc.

reading this stuff is a heck of a way to wake up. i'm doing it every day. yea, i'm still reading PINK. you know what that means, y'all, this shiznit is going in the links list for good, yo!

[oh trent, you are my new best friend]

...it happens, always seems to happen, morning night and day;
i just want some action, a little satisfaction;
send me to my fate, morning night and day...

that's hot.

i just spent a grosse amount of the last hour reading PINK is the new BLOG...*rubs eyes* who am i, WHAT have i become?!

[many thanks for the intro, anna, from sepia mutiny, your words are delicious! a girley just can't help but snoop through your diary...]

this puppy is finally fixed.

i wrote a haiku for my template:

letters seem random
snowfall of brackets and dots
don't forget the slash

indian girls in western worlds, this one's for you sistas. you are not alone. we have all known the 'pervert uncle' and 'nosey aunty', we have all been approached by 'raju', and we certainly have at least one 'payal' cousin.

many thanks, bad indian girl, this is your shiny century. i gush, i do. having spent many a moment arguing my views on the great indian tome of tradition (wot's the fuss about not being able to cook to save my own life?), the next person to cross this chokri's path is going get a direct link to aforementioned site along with one tight slap *hair toss*.

the hate mail is especially worth a read. it gives me goosebumps like i ususally get when watching the dandi march scene in gandhi.

look at my font, just LOOK at it. positively HIDEOUS. i am but a simple liberal arts girl (more than dirty hippie, less than full out activist). i know not how to work the Completely Silly Sheet, which will be known as Satan from here on. bear with, will ya?

...no, stop, it's just branson up to his usual tricks. but ignore the harness, read pink smoke as white, and voila. it is truly he.

later that night... him and his *ha* virgin crew turn loose on lucid. a club, which i shall never link to. their site is a pus filled sore that you don't want to be looking at. that's right, i said it. really abrasive.

speaking of the homeland...just came across something aching to be turned into an episode of cops, gujju style. they be tough so better watch yourself punk!

"ganda chokra, ganda chokra, soo kar-so?". heehee, oooohoohoo.

my msn stalker is back, oh joy! bleddy fool that he is. we "met" many years ago at a little internet cafe in porbandar. his life has apparently never been the same again...and mine, well i'm "cold-hearted", so mine just went on as per usual. what is it with desi boys and stalking? looking back, in that year of '02 i was the 'hottest' thing in nikes to tread the porbandar marsh (you may think that conceited but then you've never been a pantaloon-ed girl in gujarat). from the many messages left for me i found out that our man was only in porbander on vacation from somewhere in england and that there is a serious dearth of eligible gujarati girls in brit-istan. what was this guy thinking? something like this probably: must make acquaintance by stealing msn i.d. after object of desire has vacated computer terminal, then must take home to show mummy so wedding plans may be made.

i repeat: what is it with indian boys and stalking?

i don't mean ALL boys, but i do find that a disproportionate amount of stalker stories i come across (in this land, that land, every land) involve a stalker of sub-continental bearing. i guess there's always......faaaaak, he's back! stop messaging me you eggit! ahem...yes, i guess there's always those freaky few that ruin it for the rest of the lads.

now, how do you block someone who's not on your contact list without having to change entire email i.d.? any suggestions?