Goodbye Lenin!

Overload, overload, overload
Comin' up to the

Oh Stylo...
Go forth, blossom in your soul

Mmm, pump that bass, bare your soul Womack - I got a letter to write.

Dear Skype,

You've been around for a while now. You were there when I was in college, racking up huge bills with dial up (for entirely legal reasons). You helped me crank call tech support when the yanks manned the controls. You were my first option after that worthless excuse for a communicator, Y! Messenger began blocking calls. When I moved stateside, my roommies made gratuitous use of your free 60-minutes-on-sign-up to make a year's worth of calls.

Your webcam support helped me stay in touch with loved ones, even if it meant them sighing in resignation over my piercing. As time dragged on, you got ambitious. Like a man going through midlife crisis, you tried a fancy toupee and a corvette. By that I mean shiny graphics and pointless "hints" and "features". And like every 50 year old man accustomed to going through 6 packs of Bud lite, you got fatter, slower and stank of excess. I let you stay, like a burnt out hippie uncle crashing in the basement, laughing or crying for no reason at all (in your case, just crashing). I was somewhat grateful, you did help me see my lady love twice a day, and wake her up every morning for the low low rate of 9 cents a minute.

But off late, it's just not working out. You try on new updates oh so often and need my intervention all the time. You always want your friends Y! toolbar and the FF extension to hang out with you. When you're not looking, they totally cup my balls and that gets me all riled up about spyware and shit. Like a creepy racist grandpa who could never come to terms with inter-ethnic marriage, you simply can't handle Windows 7's new hotness. You stick around in the toolbar no matter how many times I close you, and the old trick of using compatibility mode to fool you doesn't work anymore. You started as an IM program, and even chat on your bloated interface sucks these days.

So, even though we go back to way back when, I must ask you to pack your bags and head to the shelter. I heard they serve pea soup on Mondays. My uninstaller will help you move out tonight.

Love,
T

-----------------

4 Weeks, and I'm back. With stories. And a lady :)

Heavy Fuel

Greetings Yanks.

It's me, the brown guy with the funny accent. I have studied your people, and I'm fascinated. You love your pop-culture, light beer, your smoke-free zones, parenthood, barbeque, family dinners, inter-city sports extravaganzas, reruns of those sports extravaganzas, religious holidays - sometimes all in the same day.

I do like barbeque sauce. And driving on your beautiful roads. Driving fast, that is.

Most Americans are early morning people. Or so I thought when I first got here. All "early" appointments are at dawn break, at times when any self respecting Indian is still dreaming of black Friday bargains. Turns out you guys aren't actually early morning people. You need to get home early to fight with the family so bad, you get to work early and stay juiced up on coffee all day long. We Indians like getting to work later than you chaps do (9 AM usually) but we're fuckin' ready to deliver when the minute hand ticks past '59.

Your morning routines are a travesty heaped on someone already in a foul mood thanks to no good office timings. You drive slow, real slow - 10 below the limit on a 25 mile single lane street because you're still ingesting your first cup of black magic. Let me level with you - I'm a bad planner. I do not factor traffic, indeed driving time, into my morning commute so I'm always in a fuckin' hurry.

Though I don't know why I bother, because when I do get to work, everyone else is crowded around the blasted coffee machine sharing dry witticisms. You're in an office. Work, don't chat. Warm up before you get here. Before you leave the house. The road to work is not the place for quiet contemplation/relaxation. Find a hidden mountain road for that indulgence on your own time.

Look guys, I love this country and its people. But lets make life a little easier for all of us. Sleep an hour extra everyday. Or two. It will change your life. You'll be better relaxed, tolerate your spouse and kids that much more, and get to work ready to throw punches.

If not that, please get off the road when you see an angry brown kid speeding in the school zone.

Many thanks,
T

PS : I deleted this post by accident in a spree of late night editing. I've managed to recover it, but Narco and Lil your comments are lost in the intertubes. Sorry!

Fuel

Hippies piss me off. Yuppies even more so, but I'm getting ahead of myself here.


Life is expensive in Boulder, CO (thank you So. Cal rich kids). Yet for some inexplicable reason hippies flock to this place. I'm guessing it has something to do with the liberal attitude to the green herbs, but I wish they'd spend a quarter of their weed money on basic hygiene.

I'm not opposed to harboring the idea of world peace, growing beards,  sleeping all day, shying away from work. Whatever works. But do you mind not getting in my way as I'm trying to escape the stench you and your buddies cause in the middle of the best walkway in town? Do not jump in front of me begging "hey man slow down, I'll let you hit me in the face for a dollar?". No pubeface, I won't give you my leftovers - I plan to eat them later. The last time this happened, el beardo followed me for a block sarcastically thanking me. Suck it up asshole, I conformed to society - and I have food eat.

And no, being honest about using my dollar to but the "good stuff" won't sway my sympathies. Nice try - do you know how many sandwiches an eighth is worth? Or how many laundry cycles that is? Speaking of which, why do all of you assholes dress the same way - long sleeved shirts, thick jackets, cargoes and boots? It's fuckin 70 degrees man, give your sweat glands (and my olfactory nerves) a rest. Scratch that, I have no wish to see you shirtless, carry on. 

A friend feels the same way. He's rather "compactly built", and was approached by a thin gangly hippie with the "hit me for a dollar" routine. Problem was, the friend's rather well versed with the martial arts. Mr. Free spirit soon found himself to be the owner of a broken nose.

All's well that ends well.

Monsters vs. Aliens

I've spoken about my geekness before. It's an incurable condition, but over time the symptoms get manageable. There is plenty of drama in the geekworld too, we're human after all.

So you've decided to make the move to high def television. You're confused, potentially technologically challenged or just plain lazy to find a deal online. By all means, throw your dollars at a big screen and/or blu-ray player, but when you hear any of this from the sales guy, reach for the nearest sharp object and jab it in his eye.

1) Now that you've bought a high quality TV, it's time to think of how the signals get around
2) It's just 40 bucks to make sure your TV and DVD player can display the video as it was meant to be
3) premium cables will be able to handle HD signals that are "faster"
4) the high quality will ensure "frames are not dropped" or "there are no jitters".

Bullshit. Absolute and complete bullshit. HD signals are digital, and unless the cables are frayed and broken, there's no difference between the ones that cost $75 for a foot long cable and $3 for 10 feet. Do yourself a favor. Buy cables from monoprice. Heck, even Amazon's better.

Don't believe me? Check this out - read the comments.

Further reading. Monster cables tried to sue a smaller cable company for "parent infringement". Problem was, the owner of the smaller company had been a litigation attorney for 20 years. Details and general hilarity here.

So do everyone a favor, stop feeding those litigious asshats.

Timeout

Went snowboarding today. Didn't fall that much, so - no, didn't get an ass pounding from Mutter Earth. I'm still tired as hell anyway. Before I pass out, a comment on the idiocy I've been seeing in Copper Mountains, CO.

The last time I was there, some dick stole my snowboard. I was fortunate that the rental company didn't charge me for it. Maybe they got it back through the network (the bar codes indicate store name), who knows, I'm not reminding them. This time, I saw 2 people lose their skis. So, to the knuckleheads getting equiment mixed up (or worse - stealing), here's a kind request.

If it ain't yours, leave it the hell alone.

Thank you, have a terrific Hallmark Holiday.

Space Truckin'

Dear SUV owner,

I'm not going to give you shit about gas consumption. Meh, the world can burn, and we can help.

What I do want to talk about today, is your faith in your 2 ton death machine. I'm sure it's tremendous fun driving a 4 wheel drive in snow so deep you could bury the Olsen twins standing up. A few thoughts for your consideration. While your 4X4 will handle better than front/rear wheel drives in snow, there are limitations imposed by this entity called Physics. Sucks, I know, but blame the very planet we're trying to burn.

1) While your metal pachyderms will help you get to 60mph on ice a lot faster than sedans, braking is another matter. The science is in stopping a 2 ton object sliding on ice. Doesn't matter how many cylinders are driving your 10 foot wheels, the same rules apply to all you jackasses. Drive too fast, you will take longer to stop - and will fishtail like shit, given your redneck driving skills (or lack thereof). Anti lock brakes you say? Won't do shit if they're off the ground and on a sheet of ice. Inertia is a bitch, and you will stop only when you've slid enough or come into contact with another mass (more about that later).
2) Speaking of 10 foot wheels, the high clearance and dominating view of the road must be very fulfilling, or as the rest of us say - compensating. But your high clearance means a high center of gravity. So when you pull fancy 90 degree turns with one hand (the other stuffing a big mac down your triple chinned throat), you are at an incredible risk of executing a belly flip. Amusing for the rest of us (you know - the ones with a triple digit IQ), but not too much fun for the 7 kids in the back. So again - it's physics - slow the fuck down.
3) Given the bulk of your badly made trucks, and your complete lack of driving skills, your tires are usually worn to a block of rubber in a few seasons. Couple that with point #1 that I made, you might as well carry coffins in the back seeing as there is so much room for more.
4) I drive 80 miles a day, and nearly all the idiots I see on the shoulder nursing a fender bender are SUVs. Sure, mustangs suck ass when driving in slush, but they don't let you go over 30 on some roads - and that's a good thing, you retards. That's why the only mustangs you see in snow related crashes are the ones that get ploughed into by maniacs driving trucks.

I'm a little reluctant to write the next bit. If physics doesn't work on you guys, concepts of courtesy are certainly far out of your reach. I'll try anyway.
When you see that shiny red car minding its own business in the right lane, doing 40, leave it the fuck alone. Use the left lane if you really want to fulfill that death wish. For what it's worth, at least one owner of a shiny red car promises to use his mad skills, superior handling, and bullet acceleration to make life living hell for you sloths in the spring/summer/fall. My 3 to your 1.

So, in conclusion, try not to kill your fellow motorists this season, and maybe, just maybe, I won't laugh as I go past the crumpled remains of your stupid truck.

Sincerely,
Owner, Shiny Red Car.

Get over it, already

Proposition 8 a.ka. the "gay marriage ban" was passed in California. A lot of people are pissed off. Perez Hilton won't stop talking about it. Keith Olbermann cried on national television. Anderson Cooper is squinting more than ever. Bill Maher has somehow managed to look even more smug than usual. The lads at Abercrombie/Express/Zara are all going "Oh my god, this is SOOO not fabulous". Protestors are taking to the streets in such vasts numbers that the rainbow colors can be seen from the moon. Alright, I'll stop - you get the idea.

Until recently, the white folk in tinsel town had to have black best friends, now the trend is to have gay ones. Gay black best friends for the gold. As a result, the cries bemoaning the decision are getting more and more shrill by the minute, almost bordering lunacy.

Now, I have nothing against gay folk. They deserve equal rights, should be able to marry, be the next of kin, adopt/raise kids and suffer like the rest of us do. What I can't understand about this whole prop 8 scene, is the reaction. Yes, it shouldn't have passed, it shows there are bigots even to this day, society still hasn't evolved in the most liberal country in the world etc. But the point is - that's how a democracy works, deal with it. Everything about this process was fair. An opportunity to think and reconsider, and a platform for a debate were provided. One side won - and legally at that. So stop finding scape goats (70% of blacks voted for this, oh noes!!!1), and protesting the decision and wasting public time and money by trying to find ways to contest prop 8. This battle is over - move on, pick your next fight.

The solution is not to tie this thing up in courts, but to start-over. To educate the suspect bigots, figure out what made them choose that way, and if there's a more compelling argument than an interpretation of the word of "god". Once the voting public is ready (they sure as shit won't change in 15 days), legislate again. That is the price of freedom and a side-effect of choice - the majority may not always have the best judgment.

There is massive disappointment, and that is understandable. This was a landmark decision, and it took way too long just to get here. But do not compare this battle to the one for African-American rights. Do not trivialize their battle to get basic human rights, to be seen as intelligent men and women and not dispensible slaves. I can't think of the last time a gay man was lynched in the open. There will be a day when we'll finally let gay people live as first class citizens, till then remember that no one's chasing them with pitchforks and nooses. That's the freedom they have, and as obvious as it sounds, it's a right that several of their kind still don't have in the countries American soldiers are dying in. Don't take these privileges lightly, use them well.

Talk, reach out. Educate. Preach acceptance - but accept the decision first.

Dear MTV,

So. Played basketball. Broke tailbone. Played cricket, almost lost a tooth, lost a small chunk of lower lip. Played touch football. Hurt knees, and twisted ankle - badly. Was sleeping. Lost my piercing. Was moving stuff. Ripped a toenail out. The last 3 were in the space of a month.

When can I get my own reality show? Can we call it Darwin was wrong?

Of glazed eyes and pouty frowns

Look, you can write poetry all you want (I'm guilty of that attempt too), but please don't read it out in public while indulging in a poor imitation of Val Kilmer doing a poor imitation of Jim Morrison.

Kind Request

Please capitalise the first letter in a sentence. Please don't overuse "..."

Goes without saying, don't type in SMSese but that's just asking for too much isn't it?

Open letter to Hip-hop "artists"

Given that the word artists is in quotes, you may guess where I'm heading. Standard disclaimers apply : I'm not an artist (yes, I don't have a platinum record but I still have an opinon), I'm not a music elitist (can anyone be called that?), musical opinion is subjective (and these are my opinions - deal with 'em).

Dear Mega gajillionaire rapper,

A emotionally-high-on-life (bleh) Julie Andrews once sang about a few of her favorite things. I'd like to list a few of my not-too favorite things, just to clear all this bad air we have between us. Here we go...

1) I know you have so much money you're tempted to throw it off yatchs, from the moon-roof of hummer limos, off the 10th floor of your "crib", in da clubs and what not, do you mind changing the subject once in, say, 5 albums? I understand the first 30 tracks had to about your "struggles" to get to the point of releasing 30 singles about your struggles, then the next 45 about the struggles to make people understand how you don't give a crap about people who don't understand your struggles, can we now have 1, just 1 single about uh, I don't know, unicorns and rainbows?

2) Speaking of struggles, when you claim you're from the "ghetto", is it of any significance that you haven't been there for the last 10 years what with your 2000 carat bling and all?

3)While on the subject of angst, I have a special one for Mr. Marshall Mathers. I'm told you suffered many abuses at the hands of your biological female parenting unit, but does the sale of a million or so records mitigate the "pain"? Will the real slim shady please shut the fuck up?

4) Now I know you love your "hos", your "mamas", your "honies" and your "biznitches". Would you like to hear those songs again when you're pitching for a reality show about you, your beautiful wife and your 3 crazy kids?

5) I'm sure you're proud of your African heritage, but is using the racial epithet given to the said ancestors the best way to celebrate your identity? How about a song about Rosa Parks then? She's a lady (qualifies for #4) and uh, your race (qualifies for #5). I'm sure this is what MLK Jr. envisioned when he campaigned for equality, civil rights and decent treatment for your people. Congrats, you da P.I.M.P.

6) Will you please stop saying "shorty", "shawty" and the like in your lyrics(?!)? Most of you are shorter than my 12 year old niece and its just plain embarrassing watching you trying to look cool with a gaggle of high heeled "honies".

7) This is just a pet peeve. Since when was rotten english cool?


To the listners,

1) It must have been super orgasmic downloading those "hawt" tracks from teh intrawebs, but do you mind not cranking up your stupid crappy steroes? Songs about Escalades with 22 inch rims sound hillarious in your broken down beat up banged up worn out Honda Civic.

2) Stop talking like that, stop making gang signs. Please. Stop calling each other Gs. You're not, Gs. You are 19, and you live in your parents' basement.

3) The ladies - you're being accused(?) of professions your dad worked hard to keep you out of (see #3 of earlier sub section). So stop shakin' yo booty/doin yo thang to the guy calling out to yo(ur) mama. And no, he's not talking about someone else. If you dance when that song is played, you're not just the target demographic, you're also the subject of his songs.

4) To the ladies, again, if you grind a random guy in the club "just fo fun" while screaming "whoo" and getting wasted on cheap tequila, you're not acting, but actually being slutty. Don't give me the finger when I retch in your company.

5) White people - stop acting black. Stop.

I do have a choice of not listening to your (yo) music, and I do exercise that glorious option - while driving, when at home. But I can't escape this drivel in some of the places I'm forced into. I'd like to stay in a club for more than 3 minutes to see what the fuss is all about, and you guys just won't let me be. I know we have our differences, but if we work together, we can lay the foundation for improving our relations. Hopefully in the next few years or so, I'll be able to listen to half a hip-hop song without feeling an uncontrollable urge to throw up. A man can dream.


Many thanks,
Me.

I must ask

As numerous as they are, I like my lies. Can I keep them? Please?

Sentiments

Hello,
In the unlikely event you're a good friend of mine, and the likely event that you're drunk before me (timewise - I'll get there eventually), please resist the temptation of calling me your "brotha from anotha motha". I do not like breaking beer bottles on people's heads. Its a waste of alcohol.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Thanatos