Meh, was fighting with ghosts of the Ex Monday and well, I guess things weren't that bad. Went out with Bobo and Shaggy to meet Hook and Brussels. Was good, it feels nice to just chill out. And knowing Hook read the Game piques my curiosity even more about her…hmmmm, oh and I have to admit, love Zara, love Pink and if anyone wants to hate on that (forgive the Ebonics/slang) then fine, go right ahead
So yes, ironically eM wrote on being single, really liked that post and well, made me go, 'you'll be fine' to myself which I don't do too often and probably should.
But yeah, about singledom being cooler, well, don't know if its cooler, don't think either one is cooler' than the other. See I think this is where the different between guys and women plays out. I think its okay for a guy to be single but if one woman hears another say she is single, bam! I think the Great Judgement occurs.
Why is it a guy can be considered a bachelor when he is unmarried and a woman uh, defective if she isn't? Well, I guess it's a guy-girl thing and most women want to have babies (again, not making a value judgement, just saying its in-built) and if one woman hears another go she doesn't want to get married, the first woman who has a 2.3 kids plan will wonder if something is wrong with her of if she is a lesbonym. Guys on the other hand are less wanting for the babeez so I guess can get away with it. Oh well.
But coming back to what I was saying best b'loved, I don't think one is cooler, its just okay…perhaps I am a stoic and perhaps the deepest circle in hell is reserved for those who have no opinion but I don't think either one is cooler. Yes, being in a relationship is nice and all but then again, being single is too. For one thing, I get big bed to myself and don't have to hear anyone complain I squished them at night. I can have friends over whenever I like. I don't hear pangs of jealousy at friends being over (because they are women and well, girls are plain insecure sometimes) or I don't need another's opinion on clothes, I just freaking wear what I want. Oh and the endless games in a relationship, the worst being when you fight just to see if the other person loves you enough to make up with you, didn't overtly indulge in that nor did it consciously but I am sure the Ex's and I engaged in it.
And here's another thing, everyone I know seems to be singaling up this year…oh fine, so AB and the Ex have moved on but still, perhaps their karmic cycle was sped up.
So I promise to try and not rant about singlehood'ness'ism.
But okay, I do give in to the blue as my last post says. But babe, without the blues, the fun times just aint fun.
Anyway, am missing Delhi terribly at the moment, especially the dogses. Oh on the dogses!
So, we have a few that have been in my life starting with the pug
1. Captain Pugwash came along when I was 9. And now best b'loved, pugs are stupid, unnatural critters. They have trouble breathing. They have protruding eyes like mini fish bowls. They are stupid. They smell
But I loved that dumb mutt who died at the ripe age of 91 doggy years. He really loved me if I do say so myself and we got along just fine. Each time I would come back home, the other dogs would act nuts except him. He would wag his tail and wait for me, what being the patriarch of the family and all. And I would sit with him alone for 15 minutes in my room, none of the other shmucks around and pet him and he would tired out and settle on my leg to watch TV. And there would be times I would lie down on my folks bed and he couldn't jump up so you would see his thinning pate just over the edge of the mattress and this panting near your ear, just to run around to face his mashed up face and perpetually lolling tongue inches away from your face.
He grew old and had cataracts. We had two tuttles in a tub in my parents room. There was also a round basket where he loved to sit and sun himself in the winter. So one day, the servant put the basket on the bed to clean. My mum and I come back from a movie just to see him sitting in the tub, the tuttles doing circles around him as only tuttles can and he has a slight twitch as if to say wait a minute, something isn't right. Trust him to make out a vague round shape, assume it's the basket because after all, what else can be round and in that place but the basket and squish into it. With just a faint bit of discomfiture?
Captain Pugwash, that's who
2. Pekingese with more attitude than a pit bull: my mum and I went to pick him up. The breeder’s place in Vasant Kunj was the usual except he had 11 dogs of varying sizes. We wanted P. P was a few months old and teenie. The breeder gave him a plum which he LOVED. P takes it whole in his mouth after tripping on it a few times. He cant see because the plum is bigger than his face. He kind of flops around and hides under the wooden table, the kind which has slats to rest magazines on underneath. The other dogs sniff and you heard this tiny bark that literally says, fuck off, mine! P was a pint sized dog with a piss-off attitude.
We took him for a dog show and this EEnourmous grate dane bounds up to us. P stands literally below him, not even close to touching his belly, looking up and barking like he means it while Marmaduke just has a goofy grin. I am in the mean time speaking with the owner and suddenly, P's barks sound muffled. I look down to see Marmaduke sitting on P. I drag P out who by this time is covered in grass, looking apoplectic, eyes bulging, barking hysterically at the good nature grey going lemme at him, LEMME AT HIM I WILL BITE HIS FUCKING FACE OFF!
The poor sod could never get on the bed, he would just stand there, looking over the edge hoping you will notice him. And he couldn’t walk off it either, so, he would line himself up against the edge, wait for a second, and then charge and you would literally see him in the air with all four legs paddling away, very cartoon as he would fall straight down…well, seemed to be very effective, he was never stranded on the bed.
I miss P. He was the only dog I had who would play fetch with me (albeit with a table tennis ball but still). And he had this habit that if it would get too hot during the day, he would kind of splay himself out on the marble floor, all limbs askew. And what I loved most was I could put him on my chest and stomach and he would fall asleep there. Anyway, he died at the sad age of one and a half years, kidneys failed on him
3. Fluffy. If you have seen Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone, you know Fluffy. Fluffy is a toy Pomeranian. This means that while he looks like a Pomeranian, he is smaller than the average and is a sandy brown with fur that sticks out every which way as thought he ran into an electrified fence.
Fluffy, is also psychotic. No, look (sit you down) he really is nuts. First, he has this dainty walk like a ballerina. Really. Whenever he eats from his bowl, he goes in circles around the bowl so he doesn’t get his snout dirty. He hates getting dirty.
He also barks and is apt to bite. He is insanely protective of my mother and should my Dad even try and put his arm around my mum, Fluffy will not shut up. Look, I know kids are attached to their folks but this fucker wont let me get close to my mum and im the fucking first born. I like Fluffy but there are times I feel like giving him one swift kick on his poncy tail. And that’s all I have to say about him.
4. Scruffy. He is the equivalent of a cat names Socks or something goofy. He is a Lahasa Ahpso. And is everything a dog should be. My folks got him when I wasn’t in Delhi so it took him a day to get used to me but once he saw the others dogs around and happy to have me, he warmed up. This guy ambles along looking kind of goofy but naughty. He will try and slink along the wall to get to the kitchen to the trash (and I use slink loosely here since he is a clumsy mutt). How he manages to see past the fur covering his eyes is a mystery to me. But he loves playing catch. He loves it when I take his food bowl and slide it across the floor so he can chase it. But the problem is when he picks it up with his teeth, he kind of tips it so it covers his face. So you se him standing there, reluctant to put down the orange bowl but unable to move. This is when I poke him from behind and he shoots off toward the wall. Oh dear. There has been one occasion where he ran into the glass door diving the living room and dining room. Poor guy kind of flopped on his back legs looking very dazed and quite confused.
And he always has to bring a stone from his walk. He goes for a walk 5-6 times a day. And he must bring back a souvenir like it was a particularly interesting walk and he must remember it. There are enough times my mum and I fish out seven or eight stones from under his mattress, just stones he stashed away. But he I the friendliest guy I know. While Fluffy and Pugwash growled if you came near them when they had food, Scruffy will just sit there, watching you take away his food and sniff around wondering, whaaa? Wha?
Then there are the times you see him being chased by someone, he comes tearing into the bedroom, launches himself onto the bed, misses, hits the mattress and you hear this thump. He just sits there recuperating and a minute later is ready to play chase again.
5. The fox-terrier. She is the baby of the family and I think a year old. She is a sharp little thing. But again, I haven’t hung out much with her. Of course, all she has to do is hear the word chuha or something similar and she goes insane sniffing all over the place. I think it was a mistake getting a girl in the house because Scruffy had his way with her, what with his natural charm. So anyway, she had to have a doggy hysterectomy sadly. More on her when I hang out more in December and if you would like to meet any of these characters, let me know and you are more than welcome. If you like dogs, you get brownie points.
Look, say what you want but I believe in signs so fuck y’all for calling ME pansy. Last night, went home, went to the gym while Bobo recuperated and Shaggy did as Shaggy does. I wanted to watching High Fidelity but we ended up watching a part of the Full Monty. Then Swingers came on and well, I didn’t particularly care but Shaggy said it was worth a gander. It starts with a guy out of a 6 year relationship. That’s when Bobo apologizes and I feel like throwing something at the TV (I wasn’t in it 6 years in all, broke up for 2 years, met some delightful girls I, delightful in one way or another anyway). So, while this movie held no promises, I went ahead anyway. But yeah, ends up the guy is a putz throughout the movie but in the end he gets something better. Meh…co-incidence? Sure, why not…But then again I love Richard Bach who wrote Nothing By Chance…so, who’s to argue?
PS: that stupid movie got this line stuck in my head – Baby! You’re so money!
I came across this post by a guy who tried to insure his privates with Lloyds of London who will insure almost anything
Lloyd’s operator: Hello, Lloyd’s of London how may I direct your call?
Me: Hi, I’d like to insure my privates.
Ll: Excuse me?
Me: My John Thomas. My knob. And my bits too.
Me: My privates, I’d like to insure them, they are very valuable to me.
Ll: Sir, we can’t insure your privates unless they are income generating. They have to be valuable to someone else for us to insure them.
Me: Why? They’re valuable to my girlfriend.
Ll: It’s because of moral hazard, sir.
Me: Moral hazard? That’s a big word for a switch board operator.
Ll: Two words. We have to prove that you have an incentive not to let the goods be damaged.
Me: I’ll show you my incentive.
Ll: Are you hitting on me?
Me: Maybe. Depends on what you look like. What do you look like? And does Lloyd’s do field apprasials for their policies?