Posts Tagged ‘idiots’

Dear Idiots,

I’m not sure which walk of my life thus far has led me to the lot of you or what special moment we shared that made you add me as a friend on Facebook but I am truly grateful that you did.

In real life, you seem like your average drug-addled freak show but there’s so much more to you, isn’t there? Had we restricted our friendship to uncomfortable pleasantries in the street I might never have known your complete inability to use a capitalized letter correctly. An impressive, if not somewhat alarming, talent!

I often wonder how exactly you have managed to complete any amount of education writing sentences like this.

caNt BlaME u sIncE u cNT drink NEthIn eLse iN THe OveN ryT nW, bT YEaH JD or jEiGEr shUD b gUD enUf nww I reckOn

[More importantly, I wonder why your friend has to drink in an oven]

Now, I imagine you’ve already sold your parents for drugs and probably have no one to tell you these things so please, allow me!

1) A capital letter is not to be used for decoration. They have something called fonts for that. Yeah, I know- you’re shocked but there really is something out there both completely sensible and decorative that won’t make you look like a complete fool on the internet.

2) With so much communication happening via text (an often emotionless medium – depending on your writing skills) – e-mails, chat, SMS- people often write sentences in capital letters to denote yelling.



Therefore, when your status is “ i’M iN tHE pOrTal. iT’s CoMIng fr You NXt!“ you come across as a severely bi-polar individual switching effortlessly between crazy screaming man and calm individual. You might want to consider that this can be frightening and cause people to hide, run or call the cops when you approach them.

3) As with every rule there is an exception – if you are writing a ransom note by cutting out letters from a magazine, it is quite alright and no one will fault your for it. The kidnapping, on the other hand, may be frowned upon.

In closing, let me remind you that there will be no lack of opportunities in your life to capitalize a letter.  It is hardly as though you could fall short. I will not go into all the possibilities right now but let me assure you, under normal circumstances, you will never have to nor should you ever feel the need to, place an upper-case letter in the middle of a word.


“A Friend”

P.S: Can you tell me on what basis you eliminate vowels from some words? I really have no idea how to do this. Does this work? dt – for idiot?

Read Full Post »

Social interaction is most difficult when done with people you dislike or find annoying. No matter whether you’ve scored an invite to a Royal Wedding or just another barn dance, you’re bound to be confronted by a social situation you’d rather not have repeated.

But how do you make sure that the insipid person standing before you talking about their eggplant garden doesn’t try it again? It’ll be tough, there may be rumours about you later, people you like may also begin to avoid you but in the end it will all be worth it. Here are your options:

(For the purpose of this piece, let’s call this human phenomenon Exasperating wherever necessary.)

  • Talk about your job in great detail – I’m talking about hair and eye colour of all your colleagues kind of detail. If you work as a doctor or firefighter or anything interesting at all, of course, this won’t work. So if you do have a fascinating job, pretend you work as a bean counter (literally) or someone who is paid to stare at walls. No part of your discourse should be interesting.
  • Carry a small notepad and pen with you. While Exasperating talks, look into their ears and nose. Inspect their hair. Grab their flanks – presumably checking for fat. Put your hands in their mouth and feel around. All the while, nod your head and rapidly take notes and make disappointed sounds. Sigh.
  • I got this one from a child I saw at a coffee shop yesterday. When you’re standing near Exasperating, suddenly fall over (make it look like they pushed you). Struggle to stand up – stagger, sway and look in wide-eyed horror at Exasperating. Screaming will add that extra something to the act.

(Really weird kid! I wouldn’t go out of my way to meet him again.)

  • Ask many personal questions – the creepy kind. Medical stuff even!

Example: When was the last time you had colon irrigation therapy? Did you enjoy it?

  • Stick your fingers in your ears, close your eyes and sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Remember, this is the most annoying rhyme and is it’s ability to repel people is much improved if you’re screaming it and not singing. By the time you open your eyes and ears again, they’ll be long gone.
  • Mention in passing how a recent accident made you lose bladder control and now you have to wear adult diapers. As soon as Exasperating starts talking about something dull, stop them to take a “bathroom” break.
  • While Exasperating is talking, attempt to take off all their clothes. Look like you’re trying to be subtle. Obviously there’s nothing subtle about disrobing someone in public but when I imagine it in my head, it looks better if you act like you don’t want them to notice. Do not stop till they walk ( or run ) away.
  • Throwing up on someone is the fast track to never having to see someone again. Your regurgitated lunch is something only your family and dearest friends can endure. Spend the rest of your time with them ( if any ) chasing them around, threatening to do it again.
  • As soon as Exasperating is near you, throw your arms around them and start weeping. Offer absolutely no explanation. When they try to pull away, slap them and dash off screaming, ” How could you do this to me!” .
  • Allude, continuously, to having slept with their Moms. Let no comment from Exasperating pass without mentioning their mother and how you “hit that”. This may seem slightly disrespectful, I know but if you haven’t actually slept with their mother then it’s totally okay ( I guess ). Here are some examples:

Example 1

Exasperating: What’s up with the weather? It’s so hot!

You: What’s up with your Mom? She’s so hot.


Example 2

Exasperating: How was your day?

You: Fantastic. Just like last night with your Mom was.


Example 3

Exasperating: This steak is firm but still so juicy

You: Funny. That’s what your mother said about me.

I meet a number of people I don’t enjoy all too often, so if you have any more ideas for me  feel free to add them in the comments section below.

Read Full Post »

Travelling Travails

Note:  Today’s post will be in 3-D because I am writing it from a movie and I have the glasses on

A few months ago I travelled to Goa – a beachy state near where I live. Cheap booze ( I don’t drink ) , beaches ( I hate sand) but loads of shopping to be done and great food to be eaten ( which I can more than live with ). It was my first vacation in many years and therefore, approached with much excitement and given the above, much trepidation as well.

It’s a twelve hour road trip which we chose to do in a sleeper bus which left at 9 p.m. A sleeper bus, by the way, is a bus which has bunk beds instead of seats.

By 12 a.m. dinner was done and it was time to sleep (for lack of anything better to do). Except, the two Germans in the bunk above us would not stop talking-really loudly. In German that too, so even if it was entertaining it wasn’t entertaining us.

Finally, at 4 a.m. they slept. Sleep was close at last! I was overjoyed but of course, it was short lived. They were up by 6 a.m. chatting away,loudly as ever.

Such complete Deutsche-bags!

Read Full Post »

Sometime last week, I was reading this post on Freshly Pressed. I was super busy and only managed to glance through it – that was enough. The post included delicious pictures of coconut macaroons and a recipe as well. It looked easy enough but not when you don’t own an oven or have any concept of baking.

If you’ve been reading, you may already know that I’m quite co-dependent and end up enlisting my friends and family to help with my crazy (and often dull) schemes. As I was reading, a friend whose parents are both chefs rang me. Perfect timing!


Him: HEY!

Me: I need to make coconut macaroons.

Him: Why?

Me: What do you mean why? I just do.

Him: Umm okay.



The hesitation was mostly because he knew that he would be doing all the baking and all I’d be doing was looming over him telling him how he was doing it wrong.

Friday arrived – It had been my first day off in three months. Well, almost. I had to pop-in to work for about an hour and travel two to do it. Anyway, I was back soon enough and ready for what I thought would be a couple of hours of baking.

I start by reading the recipe out to my friend. 

I need to digress for a minute. To me, the people who write recipes are the most evil. Every time I read a recipe, it always looks simple and undemanding.

 Of course, this is not true. It is hard to make even the simplest things because words like chop, sauté, julienne – words that fly of the tongue ever so easily, that occupy only the smallest place on a page – take much more time and effort to do than reading them. This is presumably known and even effortless to a person that cooks or bakes regularly. To a person that does not, on the other hand, it may come as a shock to find out that chopping an onion is a near impossible task. I was recently forced to cook and attempted to make a vegetable dish whose recipe included onions.  It took me nearly an hour to do chop one single onion (not well, might I add). Drudgery!

Back to the macaroons! So not only am I an idiot, I suppose I am also not a nice person. My friend was like, “Can you please look up how much a cup is”. I spent several minutes mocking how he thought a cup was a real measure and guess what! It is – 200 grams in fact. Not just the size of whatever cup you have lying around. I have no excuse.

Okay so we get down to it. I have no concept of how many macaroons we’re going to get out of the whole thing but that doesn’t stop me from insisting we double the recipe. I wish people would stop me when I act like this but they don’t.

The instructions provided were lovely and uncomplicated.  After following them, I can tell you that this is what they should have been.

Step 1: Spend an hour grinding almonds with a stone and pestle because the recipe suggests an amount that is too little to go into your grinder. 

Step 2: Attempt to separate the eight egg whites. Allow your friend to do seven. Try one. Drop the yolk into the bowl.

Step 3: Finally see what ONE KILOGRAM of powdered coconut looks like. Realize you have no concept of what a kilo is either and you’ve made a huge mistake.

Step 4: Mix everything together and stir. Cover the entire kitchen with coconut!

Step 5: Transfer the ingredients to the stove. Add another layer of coconut to the kitchen in the process.

Step 6: Be thrown out of the kitchen because the kind of stirring required is not for amateurs. Silently, be relieved.

Step 7: Then spend forever rolling the dough into balls.

Such a good hairday wasted in the kitchen


Step 8: Put them into the oven and spend an hour cleaning up the terrible mess you’ve made.

In all, this whole exercise took seven hours and reminded me how much I hate all kitchen related activities. The only thing fun about it was calling them Coco Maca’s all day.  In the hours we were there, my friend’s mother baked FIVE different cakes. No, that is not a typo- she actually baked five different cakes.

I was so tired and unfulfilled by the time they were done, I truly couldn’t have cared less how they turned out – or so I thought. I tasted one and only then  remembered that I absolutely loathe coconut desserts.

I knew that. I’ve known that my whole life. Why then did I choose to spend my first weekday vacation day in three months making a snack I wasn’t going to eat?

Because that's what they looked like on the website


Those are ours

As it turns out, no one I know is a fan either. So if any one out there is interested in one kilo of coconut macaroons, you know where to find me.

Read Full Post »

There was a time, a few months ago, when I had not yet succumbed to Facebook; the good old days when I was only privy to the unimportant news of two or three people I had to endure on an all-to-regular basis. Although, the number of “friends” I have racked up is only a two-digit number, in my mind,  I am faced with much more worthless information than any human should receive.

Recently this “news” has begun to include daily updates from people participating in the 30 day song challenge.

I’m not exactly sure what’s challenging about it or if there’s even a prize. The purpose of it is beyond me. Someone tried to explain. I don’t think I was listening.

Like my friends, if you too are unfamiliar with the word CHALLENGE, let me break it down for you.

Not a Challenge: Fitting your dog into a purse.

Actually a Challenge: Fitting your dog into a purse without looking like you have serious mental health issues.


Not a Challenge: Watching Notebook and crying.

Actually a Challenge: Watching Notebook.


Not a Challenge: Drinking two cups of coffee and three cups of tea in one morning (Me- This morning!).

Actually a Challenge: Being able to see straight after.


Not a Challenge: Listening to Lady Gaga’s music.

Actually a Challenge: Listening to Lady Gaga talk.


Not a Challenge: Planning to do 200 sit-ups a day.

Actually a Challenge: Doing more than one.


Not a Challenge: Calling in Sick to work.

Actually a Challenge: Calling in Fat / Catholic / Uninspired


Not a Challenge: Thinking of a song that makes you happy

Actually a Challenge: Remaining happy while reading a song that makes someone else happy without slipping into a murderous rage.

At the very least, I wish they’d change the name:


30 Days of Facebook torture for your friends ?

30 Day song thing ?

I don’t know. I’m just throwing stuff out there – along with my facebook account.








Read Full Post »

Dear Colleague,

You are so very very boring. You know nothing interesting. Everything you say is dull- to say the least. You aren’t even funny. Your idea of amusing someone is heinous and comparable only to verbal throat slitting. It’s completely okay. Not everyone can be blessed with charm, good looks and a rocking sense of humour which has brought funny to nearly ONE THOUSAND people.

I understand. I totally get it. As repayment for my kindness and empathy all I ask is that you not talk to me. How about our conversations start at Hello and end at Goodbye – and there’s nothing in between that. How about you sense that when you are chortling away at that, your most unfunny witticisms – I am cringing. When you read out other people’s out-of-office e-mails to me I can’t help but wonder about the head injury that made you this way. You sometimes make my soul throw up a little. I sit cowering at my desk from fear that out of the blue you will begin telling me about Twilight. I love vampires but not Twilight.

Let us only discuss the portions of our work that intersect – not church, family and the twinkling undead. Do that for me so that I do not, one day, tell you that I hate you. Or slap you in the face. Or tie you to a chair and make you watch documentaries about socks. Knowing you, you might enjoy it. Sigh.

P.S: Why do you not know that You’re is YOU+ARE and your is different. Didn’t you ever watch Friends?


Like this on Facebook

Read Full Post »

Does anyone else think it’s strange when you’re standing in line outside a public toilet (someone’s inside) and a person comes up to you and asks if you’re waiting to go in?

Besides the obvious, here are my Top 10 responses to this redundant question.



10. No. I just sell the tickets.

09. I’m stalking the person inside. I’ll be gone as soon as they are.

08. No. I’m doing a survey of people’s satisfaction levels at this toilet.

07. My pet monkey’s in there. He likes to pee on mirrors.

06. I’m the public health inspector. I shake people’s hands when they come out to make sure they’ve washed up.

05. I was just doing some research for my new perfume. I’m thinking of calling it Eau de Toilet. What do you think?

04. Nah. Just keeping a look out for my friends in case the cops get here before the bomb’s ready.

03. I’m just collecting stool samples for my collection of crap from around the world. Try not to flush.

02. I’m married to the bathroom door and it doesn’t like to let me out of its sight.

01. I’m in line but I’ll only be in a minute. Just need to grab the surveillance tapes for my website.



In closing, I would like to reiterate there are no more than two reasons for a person to be standing outside a toilet. If they are standing outside, it’s probably because someone is inside. So asking if there’s anyone in there is a pretty stupid (bordering on brain dead) question to ask as well.



P.S : If you must nap, bathe or read in the toilet have a shred of decency and go home!

Like this on Facebook

Read Full Post »

I’m not sure when it happened but a while ago Thursday became the day we all met to consume copious amounts of alcohol. I do not drink (honestly!) so I just end up drinking Coke or Coffee… A Caffeine high is as good as any if you ask me!

Yesterday it was just me and another friend…him drinking alcohol and me drinking Thums Up (which kept me up till 4 a.m., thank you very much).

As we sat there across from each other drinking and chatting, I suddenly noticed my friend was no longer listening to me and in fact, staring right past me, looking quite angry. I turned around to find that the man behind us had stood up and was staring back at my friend. This is the conversation that followed

Middle-Aged Drunk Man: What are you looking at?

My Friend, Also Drunk: You

Middle-Aged Drunk Man: What the hell for?

My Friend, Also Drunk: You were looking at her (points to bedraggled, just out of work, me)

Middle-Aged Drunk Man (Looks at me. Gasps. Looks horrified): HER???

Me (pretty much to myself): Thanks man! That’s great for my self esteem. Wouldn’t want it to get too high.

My Friend, Also Drunk: Yes, her!

Some alocohol and testosterone induced incoherent conversation ensues which I don’t remember now. Then:

Middle-Aged Drunk Man: Are you gay? Is that why you’re looking at me?

My Friend, Also Drunk : Could be

Middle-Aged Drunk ( & apparently homophobic ) Man: Umm Okay ( sits down )

A few minutes later, he stands up again. Stares at my friend some more.

My Friend, Also Drunk : Why are you looking at ME? Are you gay?

Middle-Aged Drunk ( & definitely homophobic) Man: Leaves bar

This friend of mine is 6 feet and 7 inches tall. Him standing up might have made for a better ending than this. So as not to disappoint you, I have rewritten the ending of this particular episode of my life:


My Friend, Also Drunk : Why are you looking at ME? Are you gay?

He stands up.

Eye of tiger starts playing on the jukebox. (Yes, in this version there’s a jukebox.)

The fight escalates.

It continues as in a movie scene. Flying into the air, et al

The song changes. Total Eclipse of the Heart fills the bar.

They both soften ( I have a dirty joke to put here but this just isn’t that kind of blog ), stare deep into each others eyes. Finally, they embrace – passionately. ( Man, I’m creepy. I guess this is that kind of blog after all )

I leave the bar. As I try to hail a rickshaw, it begins to rain. I am holding back tears, thinking about how I don’t have someone.

I look up. A handsome stranger is standing in front of me.

He steals my bag.


Like this on Facebook

Read Full Post »

To say that I am a person ” in the know ” would be a rather great exaggeration. I am in fact, always the last to know most things.

Some of the more recent information I wish I had known earlier:

• People did not like Red Riding Hood ( I actually thought it was quite good )

• It is now acceptable to wear a striped shirt with striped pants. ( While I see this – daily – on more than a few people in my office, it always comes as a shock to me )

• You can churn out the most terrible music video for $2000 and become an overnight sensation. Had I known, I would’ve done it years ago.

Thus far, I have managed quite nicely. Watching bad movies, wearing non-jailclothes style outfits and having no internet fame to speak of has been good enough for me. But when no one tells you that they have gone and added another O in the word lose, you know it has gone too far.

Yes, another O! O as in O Holy Mother of Misspellings, Batman! O!

I’ll admit, it has always loomed over me; the possibility that this was true. I had always suspected it, felt an eerie premonition that my suspicion might be fact. It had been many years since I’d seen anyone spell the word correctly. As with anything you wish not to accept, large doses of denial do wonders to drown out doubt.

It was only when the truth laid itself bare before me like Kate Winslet in Titanic ( what a great movie btw! ) that I had no choice but to believe what inside, I may have always known. The word LOSE had lo(o)st it’s meaning. I had an e-mail to prove it.

From: My Manager

Sent: Wednesday, April 06, 2011 3:32 PM

To: Our Team

Subject: Clean-Desks

Do not keep any lose papers on your desks or in your drawers.

So what’s a girl to do when she knows her gose is coked? I suppose I’ll take some time out to recover – Dive teary headfirst into a scop of icecream , maybe some moousse, even some boze ? Moby that’ll help , just moby! I mean maybe


Like this on Facebook

Read Full Post »

It’s Friday evening. I am sitting here counting every last second till the clock strikes FINALLY-I-CAN-GET-THE-HECK-OUT-OF-HERE. I am so bored. My brain is about to stop functioning completely.

And out of nowhere Friday is playing in my head!

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)

Fun, fun, fun, fun

Her auto-tuned voice soothes me. It distracts me from the fact that I have almost no thoughts in my head. She must be used to that.

Kickin’ in the front seat

Sittin’ in the back seat

Gotta make my mind up

Which seat can I take?

Which seat WILL I take? Obviously, I will not be in a convertible driven by 13 year olds. Maybe the movie theatre. Maybe a restaurant. Who knows?

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)

Fun, fun, fun, fun

Damn! I need more lyrics. This is how bored I am. Google Search.

Fun, fun, think about fun

You know what it is

I got this, you got this

My friend is by my right

I got this, you got this

Now you know it

I literally do not know what this means. I laugh. Children are stupid. I just spelled children with 5 E’s. It’s totally okay though BECAUSE

It’s Friday, Friday

Gotta get down on Friday

Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend

Friday, Friday

The boredom is starting to return. Slowly, Rebecca Black is not as interesting. Until I read this ( I can’t believe I almost forgot the best part )

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday

Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin’)

We-we-we so excited

We so excited

We gonna have a ball today


The day before Thursday was Wednesday. Wednesday I still hadn’t heard this.

Tomorrow is Saturday

And Sunday comes after…wards

I don’t want this weekend to end

I could’ve skipped the first standard.This song is so educational.

Fast lanes, switchin’ lanes

Wit’ a car up on my side (Woo!)

(C’mon) Passin’ by is a school bus in front of me

Makes tick tock, tick tock, wanna scream

Enter Dr. Dre style rapper. More incomprehensible lyrics. I could’ve left 3 minutes ago. Why am I still here ?

Check my time, it’s Friday, it’s a weekend

We gonna have fun, c’mon, c’mon, y’all

It’s not often I agree with Lady Gaga but sometimes you just can’t argue with the truth. Rebecca Black & Friday are pure genius. This has been a good 17 minutes.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: