Woke up at some abnormally early hour and tried figuring out the intricacies of treating pancreatic cancer desperately waiting for something to convince me that there was more to life than this. And what did that have to be but the local newspaper. The main paper has absolutely nothing to add to my life. The rat pack is about to be pulled up by the PM(I really like the man but his current hen-pecked status is hard to digest) for poor infrastructure... Again. Of course infrastructure might mean building a road on the big rat's soil which is a significant spanner in the works.
BMC (the medical college not the municipal corporation) is to be upgraded to the status of AIIMS. Then they can increase whatever astronomical percentage of reservation there exists and we can all go on hunger strike. Again.
In other things, guess where the football is, who's going to win the matches and who the footy is by only looking at a picture of his eyes. SMS your answer and win a chance to be mauled by mika.
Then the supplement which is even better. Are we ready to forgive Rahul M. Forgive, perhaps... forget? You kidding me? He's a crackhead. just like him. Except the latter got voted into office and did the whole I'm so sorry but it didn't affect my performance. Where? is the question. We need to have some singaporean rule to castrate/lash/eviscerate the druggie irrespective of whose kid he is. I do feel sorry for the family and all and perhaps happy that I don't have siblings too but sometimes stupidity has to pay the price. What noxious combination was that? Coke and heroin. You don't need to a rocket scientist to figure out that it's a suicide pill.
No more angst but a majority of the country is willing to forgive him and let him get into politicking. Caramba! the columbian embassy comes calling!
And Upen Patel of the I do my eyebrows, wax my chest and lip sync to Himmesh fame has decided that after Sallu bhai he too shall disrobe at every occasion. This time the excuse was that he was dancing and started sweating (duh!) and didn't want to slip due to all the moisture/wetness/sweatness. So he took off his shirt. I hunted for the nearest wall and attempted to bash my head in after I read it but like trying to slit one's own neck and wrists it's hard to do. How can you slip when you're sweating? It's not like one can cause puddles on stage... and even if one is puddling, how does taking a shirt off help? And zee music or some low budget music channel's put him up as Eye Candy of the month. Bleah.
Wizard of Id and Beau Peep are the only reasons to subscribe to it (outside of perhaps dad's obsession with Goren Bridge by Omar Sharif and Tannah Hirsch).
Time to go back and figure out if there's a way to cure stupidity. There have been a couple of ideas in the past. And of course there are the Darwin Awards. But there is still much research pending...
