This blog post title is taken from a song called Children by EMF and it just seemed like the right thing to do so there it is. So many things have happened you gaiz. Elizabeth Taylor died. Blaft sold out (allegedly). Then I have a new story up at the Michigan Quarterly Review called The Underground Bird Sanctuary. It is about zombie birds in Vedanthangal. It’s not, actually. Then certain internet slangs were added to the Oxford English dictionary. And some people got really emo about that. Like, REALLY emo. Like batches be trippin’ about how Shakespeare and a variety of other dead white dudes are now turning in their graves, screaming in their graves and doing the splits in their graves because LOL is now in the dictionary. I feel like because I write in English (allegedly) I need to say WE’RE SO SORRY WE LET YOU DOWN DEAD WHITE DUDES!111 The threat of the bad Englishes is upon us, batches! Don’t let them take it all! ‘Cause you know they’re going to take it all! They seem so far from you! But really they’re close to you!
Also I watched a movie you gaiz! Not about dudes getting fucked by horses. This one was called The Louly Bones. From what I could understand, and I did not understand much, this movie was Lord of the Rings but except there was a young girl in it whose main purpose was to strike Neo-esque poses to remind us of another great movie, called The Matrix. Then also there was a Heavens which apparently is mainly filled with murdered white women. I always knew that’s what heaven would be like you gaiz!11 But perhaps most interesting of all is the fact that this story had an Indian boy in it. YAY INDIA SUCH A GREAT HOLLYWOOD FINALLY UNDERSTANDING GREATNESS OF ALL THE INDIANS JAI HIND!!!!1111111!11 This Indian boy kissed a white girl on the lips you gaiz. That is very unIndian. I’m so conflicted about this you gaiz. Then I watched movie called Orphan. Arfan is the natural progression of Russian commie villain to Russian demon child girl person orphan type thing that plays the piano because she is Russian and who is not child girl person either really. Or something. I think the moral of this movie was not to adopt Russians. And I feel like maybe certain members of our philim community who are currently decanting young Russians in the hopes of casting them as the white girl in their next movie should take note. DON’T DO IT YOU GAIZ BE INDIAN BUY INDIAN!!11
Now I want to talk about how last time, I gave a very special shoutout to some of my real life peeps who are now lounging on the prickly bed of unemployment. And I feel like maybe the advices I gave in the last post were not very complete and they may have been not very useful also. So I am now going to provide some useful employment advices for your face, real life peeps. Even though you don’t really read this blog. And you are currently unemployed also so how employment advices will help you I can’t say. If you ever get employed again, you can remember all these precious things and win at life because life is about #winning, you gaiz.
Scenario #1- You call in sick because for realz, you feel like now would be a really good time to die and even though the floor is very dirty and running with numerous lines of red ants, it’s looking like the most comfortable place on earth right now and you’d really just like to curl up in the fetal position on said floor and die. And then the asshole on the other end of the phone says ‘Kindly take the appropriate medication and come to office.’
Do Not Say- What in the name of all that is good and holy on this green earth made you think you could tell me to ‘take the appropriate medication and come to office.’ Do I look like one of those people who ‘take the appropriate medication and come to office’? Has anything I have ever done in my illustrious career made you think oh, well she’ll just take the appropriate medication and come to office! If so, are you on drugs? What exactly is the ‘appropriate medication’ anyway? What could I possibly take to make coming to work a little easier on me, even on a good day? Crack? Are we allowed to do crack and come to work now? Please send me a memo regarding this with information regarding the same. In conclusion, I will conclude by saying that if you ever. EVER. Tell me to ‘Kindly take the appropriate medication and come to office.’, I will hunt you down and set you on fire.
Scenario #2- You are caught by that sleazefuck who cannot hold a conversation with you without touching you because even though you’ve made it quite clear you do not want to be touched, they have made it equally clear they really want to keep touching you. Then when you try to sidle away they say things like ‘Hey relax! Why are you so tense? You’re not tense, are you? Come on, don’t be like that. You know I like you. Just relax, ok?’, thus sounding like a pedophile and making everything much much worse for your face.
Do Not Say- How much porn are you watching for you to think that this is going to have some kind of #winning result for you? Because something made you think that you could talk to me like I’m 12 years and you’re trying to get into my pants like that’s a #winning thing, right? What did you think I would do, clap and go ‘GOOD JOB!!1’? Is the bowchikkabowwow music supposed to start playing somewhere above our heads about now? At what point in these proceedings do I start stapling your reproductive organs to your forehead? Because I really feel like that needs to happen. I feel like that’s something I can make happen for you.
Scenario # 3- For the 876th year in a row, the office has decided to give you an armpit handbag for your happybirthday.
Do Not Say- It’s not often that I wish I had a penis. But right now, I kinda wish I had one because people in this office who have penises get CDs, books, gift certificates and neat stuff like that for their birthdays. And it’s great to see that all that money I can’t afford to give goes for neat birthday presents for cool peeps with penises, many of whom I don’t like and who don’t like me also. I know all of you pitched in a lot and made a lot of sacrifices to get me this plastic armpit handbag that looks like it cost…oh, maybe 4 rupees. And I totally understand how it is with us ladies, our ladyparts are always screaming out ARMPIT HANDBAG and that can be very deafening so naturally you are just getting us what we want. Anyway, I also want to say how much I appreciate this moldering piece of hardened vomit here which someone informs me is a pizza. And this lump of gawdhelpus which I thought was a collection of dead kittens but apparently is a cake. Also cheers for this flat and tepid orange drink which tastes like naphthalene, possibly because it’s been in that cupboard since 1997.
Anyway you gaiz, I won’t be blogging next month. I should be back in May. If I’m not back in May, I should be back in June. If not June, then July. And so on and so on. Hopefully it will be May but then again, man proposes but the god disposes.
carry on, batches