Body Double of World's Worst Blog

Birth of "Cherry OK"

The Birth of "Cherry OK"

Many may confuse it with Karaoke, but its "Cherry OK". 

Those who have ever lived in Chennai, or have a Tamil Girl Friend or Tamil friends will definitely know about "Cherry OK". It's like saying "Theek Hai" or "It's OK". 

But how did this "Cherry OK" come in existence?

The birth of "Cherry OK" is dated thousands of years back. I mean really thousands. Awesomely thousands. 

Chennai is known for its hot and humid climate. This was only post the Himalaya Collision. Before Himalayas existed, Chennai used to be a super cool place. It was not frozen, but yeah cool enough for being eskimos' winter destination. 

At that time Chennai had a lot of Cherry plantations. Chennai being Chennai, the testing standards were high. The testers used to check the cherries for various defects.

The healthy cherries were labelled "Cherry OK". 

 Times changed, himalayas were formed. 

Gone were the cherries, gone were the fairies.

What stayed was "Cherry OK"

 

Rambo and Elangovan - The crow shit

"Bloody Crow" said Rambo, while washing the crow shit on the left shoulder of his white shirt. He was running late for the 9 AM meeting, a crow using his brand new white shirt as a toilet was the last thing he needed. With the help of the office handwash he managed to turn the stain into a much lighter shade.

Rambo worked as an account supervisor in a Chennai based ad agency. He could neither tolerate nor appreciate the creative work by the crow on his otherwise perfect white shirt. Somehow he managed to enter the meeting room. Scared of the stares from his boss, Rambo entered the room with mildly audible apologies. The punctual and sarcastic client did not help the cause either. The meeting had already started. He was 15 minutes late. Rambo couldn't concentrate. In fact he didn't give a shit about what was going on. "Crow Shit" was the only shit he could give. "Fucking crow", "Son of a bitch", "C****t" Rambo was ranting all sorts of cuss words to the crow. "I wish his wife runs away with a raven", Rambo said to himself. The meeting was over at 1 PM. He was getting over the crow crap, but had still not completely moved on. 

Rambo had a bad start to the day and it was not getting any better. He skipped his lunch. The bad day continued and the client and the crow both kept bothering him. Somehow he managed to call it a day at 9:30 PM. The hungry Rambo managed to grab some dinner. He then headed home on his bike. Rambo lived on the 9th floor of a 30 year old apartment in the centre of the city. It was April and Chennai was boiling. Powercuts was a common phenomenon. But no matter how common it is, Rambo couldn't get used to it. He entered his apartment and lit up a candle. AC was out of question. (Don't ask why? Now that you have asked, I shall answer. "Because there was no electricity" (10/10 for my intelligence. Yippie!!!) ).  Rambo started his usual ritual. Rambo rolled a joint and smoked it all by himself. To take care of his cough he sipped some Glycodin, just half a bottle. There was too much smoke in the room. Rambo was forced to open the window. He was living in that house for almost close to 4 months now. This was the third time he was opening the window. He opened the window and was welcomed by a momentary blow of cool breeze. He then noticed something shocking, same eyes, same beak, same tail and same feathers. It was the same crow who took his morning crap on Rambo's shirt. The devil was now dirtying his window. 

Rambo was furious, very furious, but too high to be angry. The angry Rambo said "Hi Crow".

Then began one of the wierdest conversations Rambo ever had.

Rambo: Hi Crow

Crow: Hi Rambo!!! "My name is Elangovan".

Rambo: Hey Elangovan, wassup?

Elangovan: Nothing man, taking a crap, do you mind?

Rambo: Dude, I work in an agency, I take a lot of crap from so many people the whole day. What harm can your tiny crap do?

Elangovan: Thanks. You are much cooler at the night. Will you excuse me??? I can't do it when you are watching.

Rambo:  Oh ok!!!

Rambo pulls the curtain. 

Elangovan: (From behind the curtain) Why were you so pissed in the morning?

Rambo: Cuz you were shitted... LOL. You were shitted and I was shithead... ROFL. That didn't even make sense.

Elangovan: Dude...when has anything you ever said made any sense? Sometimes my "Kav Kav" is more sensible than the stupid jokes you crack. 

Rambo: Yeah....anyways...why do you guys crap so much and that too every where??? You are such a boss. You take a crap and we have to clean up.

Elangovan: Dude its your fault.

Rambo: What Bullshit?. How the fuck is it my fault? You are the one who crap everywhere. On shirts, bikes, car hood, hairy peoples' head, bald peoples' bald head. You have the roads, but you never crap on the roads. I have never seen a crow shitting on the road.

Elangovan: Chill dude... Bullshit was totally uncalled for. And we don't crap on bald people anymore. The last crow to do it was on Mikhail Gorbachev. Since then crapping on bald people is banned. And yeah, roads, we leave it for the cows, bulls, dogs and goats. Its kind of a mutual agreement. And yeah its still yout fault. 

Rambo: How??

Elangovan: Not you in person, but generally the people of your kind.

Rambo: The Humans?

Elangovan: Oh I thought we can't use the "H" word out here. Yeah, the Humans. You guys feed us and don't make no toilets for us. So where the hell are we supposed to go? In fact three years ago, we had visited the prime minister and demanded public toilets for crows. At first they said no. Later we all visited the parliament. We threatened them "You pass the motion or we pass the motion." Scared by the crow they did. Even the scare crow PM couldn't do anything. Who the fuck is scared of him anyways?  The plan was passed. That was the only official document either us or pigeon's haven't crapped on. Sure the pigeons got a 25% reservation on the toilets, but yeah it was worth it. In return they promised to ban all black jokes. The motion was passed and so was the plan, “Kavva Shouchalya Yojna”. And since then is the plan, just plan. Every time we go there they give us the same crappy answer, "Work in progress." Its seems someone just crapped on our plan and so we crap on humans. 

Rambo: But you guys crapping on humans is dated since Mahabharata. 

Elangovan: Yeah yeah!!! This is not the first time we went to the government for toilets. Actually all this started since Mahabharata. I mean why did Arjun have to shoot that crow? What was the need?

Rambo: Dude, t'was not a crow, t’was a sparrow. 

Elangovan: No no....t'was a crow. Dronacharya couldn't find a sparrow for the royal family. So he just put the sparrow feathers on the crow. There were some hot village chics taking a bath in the nearby river, so rest of the Pandavas didn't notice anything. And Arjuna was focusing on the eye. He had no fucking clue whether it was a crow or a sparrow. My mega-grand father died that day. Since then we decided we gonna crap on humans. Earlier t'was chariots, now it’s the bikes and the cars. We are here to destroy you beautiful creations and kill your happinness. Better build us toilets or be ready to be crapped.  

The next thing Rambo remembers is waking up in his bed. The power was back and the tubelight was on. So was the fan. He could see some crow feathers and crow shit near the window. Rambo lit his cigarette, opened the door and went to the open area near the stairs. He stared at the open sky. He looked for Elangovan, but couldn't find him. There were several crows, but not one of them was him. Rambo thought it was just the effect of grass and the cough syrup. He headed back to the room. He opened the door and could hear the sound of the flush. He ran towards the bathroom. He saw a crow flying out of the bedroom window. The note from the house owner was staring right at Rambo's face.

"Please keep the windows closed. Birds may enter the house"

 

 

Insane Insomia

I washed my hands and looked into the mirror. The person beneath smiled or rather grinned. Quetions from yesterday's sleepless night still unanswered. Insomnia had struck back, like  lightning on a starry night. I had absolutely no clue from where and why it arrived. 'How?' is a question only doctors can answer. But it had come back, like a famous actor from the daily soap to add stickiness to my already viscous life.  When insomnia hits you, it hits you with a lots of noise. I don't know the wavelength or frequency of this noise. Whatever they play on the TV is what I hear. At times I wake up and sleep to the same TV show. Does this mean that I didn't sleep at all? Or does it mean that the TV shows are designed to cater insomnia. How dare you miss this show? We screen the same show 8 times a day, don't we. (Yawning, as I type the next line, but I am  not sleepy). The script of madness is read by a pair of tired eyes, tired legs and tired mind. This trio of tired something drives you to the pinnacle of tiredness. Tiredness that carries itself forward, to the extent that you feel like sleeping the whole day.

Its only an insomniac who can understand the importance of sleep. Its actually been a while that I have actually gone to sleep. My system doesn't believe in this phrase called "Go to sleep"., so it doesn't. As my ex roommate once said, "Use sona nahi kehte, use gir jaana kehte hai". It is not called sleeping, it is called falling down. I feel like a bird flying high, but suddenly the tired wings give up. They can't take no more and the bird falls down.

Ring-a-ring-a-roses,
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
We all fall down.

Of course this fall was not comfortable for the bird. He does fall asleep, and does wake up, but not in the preferred location and not in the preferred condition. So every day this bird flies in different direction trying to break free from the shackles of ordinary, but ends up in the same location, with a new story every day or every night (it doesn't really make a difference to him). Every night with his eyes wide open, he stares at his life that is going down the drain, being flushed in a manner that is dressed in  different attires.

Stacy Keibler - Strip N Shine

How Many Baboons

Created by Oatmeal

The Great Indian Revolution

The Indian Revolution is happening here. It shall start tomorrow after my breakfast.

Just kidding. I don't know when its happening,

Below is my entry for some ad competition in IIM-I or IIM-A. Don't remember. It never cleared the first round. And so it is here :D

 

The Brazilian Baby Dance!!!

Can the baby really dance like this????

Check out and comment.

Salma Hayek's fear for the Reptilian

Shall I call her DUMB???

Or

Just Scared

Or

Just as example of female exaggeration or insignificant fears???

Check out………

Salma Hayek

In

 Fear for the Reptilian!!!!

Thankfully the snake didn’t bit her.

Good for him J

We are still on the lookout for the snake. Shall let u know once we find him J

Axe Humor!!! Awesome!!!!!

I am not evil, I was just hungry!!!

Dressed like fairies, they were waiting for the demon to kill them. Usually we wait for our turn, but I am sure they were not.  They were actually numb to the surroundings and were just witnessing the sweet slaughter.  Moments ago they were caged and now sentenced to death. Like Jews in the Nazi camp they were scared, but had resigned to the fate. If you know that the way you will die is extremely painful and it’s not long left for that, how would you feel? Those were the exact same emotions of the 5 hens standing in the meat shop. Waiting to be transformed into human food.

It was Friday morning. As a proud MBA son of his mother I was getting a royal treatment back home. I was to leave for Chennai in two days. My mother was confused, deciding the food items she’ll cook for me before leaving. I was not used to being treated such royally at home. I guess I was the lucky dog and my day was Friday. The delicacies being cooked for me were all from the top drawer. Chicken and Bheja fry was the delicacy of the day. I was asked to procure the raw material. In the month of May, going out in Indore heat is worth only for home made chicken. The true carnivore was up for the task. Defeating the May heat and Indore traffic, I reached the mutton shop. The butcher was frustrated and busy counting his chickens. Chickens, which were hatched and ready to be slaughtered.

There were five of them alive and at least fifty murdered and rest of them caged. I ordered for a 1.25 kg bird. He opened the cage door. Repulsive to the barbaric clutch they all ran away from the exit. It was all but useless. The butcher had sealed the fate of a poor soul and he was going to get that anyways. She seemed to be fleshiest among them all and also the unluckiest. Before she could shed her cluelessness over why she was chosen she found herself upside down. The demon was holding her firmly by the legs. The authority of the murderer was appreciated by the audience, not with words but with gestures. The victim was witnessing this all but upside down. In a moment she was thrown on the weighing scale. “Yeh dedh kilo ho rhiya hai”, announced the butcher in the typical Indori accent. The bird weighs 1.5 kg is what he said. The extra .5 kg brought a 50% larger smile on the carnivore’s face. But smile was not the only emotion he was going through. There was a mixture of emotions. For a moment I felt that stop, don’t kill the poor bird. I felt like walking out of the store full of blood feathers and the death stench. The battle of good and evil had begun. Good was taking over exponentially. The bad was facing a defeat. For the rescue came the executioner. Before good could do any further damage, bad had got its back up force. The executioner had carried out the execution. He beheaded the chicken. Watching a headless chicken has always been fun, but this time it was different. What was worth noticing was the reaction of those still alive. They were inches close to death, still apathetic to the surroundings. They were not praying neither were they cursing their fate. They were just watching it like a TV show, may be unaware that they were the next to feature. While the blood drained out of the chicken, the executioner picked up another. Chopped off the feet and ripped of the feathers. Like a naked penis, its flesh was exposed to the world. Then suddenly one of the five could not take it anymore. Seeing the brutal and painful death of the fellow traveler made her not want to travel anymore. Rest of them indifferently brushed off the dust off their white coat. The ladies in white continued watching the episode of ‘How I chopped your Chicken?’.  The butcher performed his act with immense proficiency. Headless chicken was no more there. Within moments the chopped pieces of the chicken were put in a plastic bag and handed over to me. The battle of good and bad had begun. The vegan clips of animals cruelty floated in front of my eyes. The sounds of angel descended upon my eardrums like a streak of sunshine on a cloudy morning. I said to myself, “Kiti waeet karto apan” (Marathi) i.e. we are so cruel to these creatures (contextually translated). Witnessing the brutal death of an innocent creature had awakened the sleeping human in me. It seemed to be the most decisive moment of my life. I decided to walk the Vegan line. I had  made up my mind to return the flesh filled plastic bag. The chicken no more looked like food to me. Usually mind controls the body, but when we rise above all worldly feelings, strange things happen. “Aur thoda kaleji bhi”, (Some pieces of liver) I found myself saying to the butcher. The vegan in me vanished like peace from the world. What stayed were some silent candle light processions by high class pseudo saints residing in some prime locations of my heart. These protests were as usual feeble and gained nothing more than momentary media hype on the TV screen of my mind. I took the bag, picked up my bike and headed back home. The Chicken Slaughter Show was over. The TV station was now showing the cookery show. The gruesome scenes of the Tarantino movie were forgotten. The carnivore too like the butcher performed his act with immense proficiency. Good bye chicken. I shall sure mourn for you someday when I am drunk. I am sure going to miss you. Don’t blame me and if possible forgive me. I am not evil, I was just hungry.