Archive for December, 2008


Posted: December 27, 2008 in Uncategorized

Where are all the crazy people at?

Sane people do not…

  • Have imaginary friend(s)
  • Talk to themselves and/or imaginary friend(s) when no one/everyone is around
  • Vandalise public property because it’s ‘funny’
  • Seriously contemplate stealing a policeman’s hat
  • Tell gullible little children who will listen that there are grasshoppers living inside them
  • Interrupt their parents’ Parental Lecture with the ‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie wuh-urld!’ song
  • Practice jumping from one living room sofa to the other
  • Hand-sew a denim jacket that says PLAYAH on the back, for their pet rabbit
  • Say nonsensical strange things like ‘you silly pickle’ and ‘bijiggley woop!’
  • Hug, jab, tickle, pinch people unawares just to freak them out
  • Make serious plans to visit the Angoda hospital out of sheer fascination
  • Grin manically when they hear of some natural disaster
  • Make weird googly faces at strangers during highly inappropriate times

I do.

Chokka Bunnis and I let out melodramatic sighs on the phone, as we took out our statistical devices and concluded that the rate of insanity in our general social circle is quite rapidly declining.

Tragic no?

My Feline Friend

Posted: December 26, 2008 in Uncategorized

I miss my Bandiya.

Having brought up his bro, Cujo, his mum, Spots, and his grandmum, Bonkers, Bandi was always such a favourite at home.

He always ate too much. And then flopped down right smack in the centre of the hall, haughtily obstructing everyone’s way until someone either rubbed his tummy or gave him a big hug.

Whenever I wasn’t feeling too good or I needed a talk, Bandi would suddenly appear around the corner, his big ears tickling my feet. We’d sit long hours on my pillow, me yakking away about all these things running through my brain, him occasionally meowing about fleas or the latest brand of tuna. And he’d just sit there snuggled up to my face, listening and purring away, and mum would often find us both fast asleep after these ranting sessions.

He’d even play with King Tut, my pet rabbit. He must’ve thought Tut was a freakish sort of deformed kitten, and I have fond memories of him carrying fish to Tut and Tut hopping away in fright, only to be followed by Bandi and consoled with an affectionate lick or two.

Then one day, Bandiya took one of his routine walks around the neighborhood, and didn’t come back. I don’t want to even think about asshole truck drivers and the rate of roadkill in Colombo. Hopefully some cat-lover kidnapped him and took him so far away that he couldn’t find his way back, and he’s seated happily on some carpet now munching on his favourite biscuits.

If you happen to see an orangey white fat cat sauntering around and if his ears perk up when you say BANDIYA! just let him know that I miss him loads.

Oh the agony

Posted: December 26, 2008 in Uncategorized

Annoying. I mean, you can even hear girls screaming hysterically from the pain of listening to the rape of the song.

Will someone please shoot the Jonas brothers? Or atleast give that guy a haircut and strangle their vocal chords out of function?

That’s all I really want for christmas. 😛

A Merry 24th

Posted: December 24, 2008 in Uncategorized

Today was exhausting.

Hanging out on Ami’s concrete rooftop with my old school buddies, water balloons full of coloured water (courtesy of holi powder) flying in all directions, ‘nilakuru‘ sticks lighting up the evening, fire crackers catapulting into the cool night air accompanied by hoots and woohoos, silly goday dancing and singing, needless to say it was mad fun.

People who had seemingly grown apart since school life, their interests in life and personalities now a clearer contrast with each other’s, still manage to have the greatest time together at Ami’s annual 24th/26th meetup.

Everyone, about ten of us, regardless of level of maturity or colour of opinion or whatever, suddenly transforms into the kids we were back in grade five.

Sure, you’d find us talking about things we didn’t know about back then like politics and news, but once the party really starts, not a single person standing is spared of turning into a care-free 10 year old: pigging out on icecream, laughing about the size of the spoons, laughing so hard it hurts, remembering age-old songs, singing them way too loud and way off tune, seeing who can spin around in circles the longest without passing out, hopping and running around and throwing water balloons at each other, until we’re all out of breath and looking like mental patients/fugitives from an asylum.

Rubbed the coloured tint off my face and hands, looked presentable enough, and had to run off to a wedding soon afterwards. Little did anyone know that beneath my long sleeves and shoes was a yellow tummy, pink and yellow arms, and red toes.

Finally at home, after laughing at the purples and magenta hues swirling down the shower drain, my clothes permanently coloured with our madness and my toes still incorrigibly red, I realized (while munching hungrily on Ferrero Rochers) that every now and then, regardless of how old you are or what you do or anything else, you’ve gotta have one of those things that take you back to your childhood. Some pure, unadulterated fun.

Here’s to an awesome christmas eve, and happy holidays everybody!

Renegade Hormones

Posted: December 23, 2008 in Uncategorized

Ok so I was all emo on Monday. If the annoyingly reflective oh-such-is-life-and-its-weirdness blog post was any indication. Which brings me to today’s topic.


Ok I can hear cringes and sniggers and ‘eeya’s in the crowd already. 😛
But srsly, PMS is a BIG problem. I mean mentally, it reduces you to a blithering pool of blubber.

I NEVER cry. I mean, seriously. Not even when someone hits me in the face or when I bump into evil furniture jumping into my way or at sad movies or when people are really mean.
But these are the times I almost cried my eyes out during that freakishly PMSey day:

  • A sad song played on the radio in the morning
  • One of my contacts on the phone at work was talking incomprehensible complex sinhalese
  • A co-worker jokingly showed me the finger
  • The Tipi Tip shop was closed
  • The office transport guy yelled at me for being late
  • That creepy elevator guy making smoochy noises at me
  • Spilt a bit of hot Milo on my scarf
  • Mum forgot to pay a bill

And then I swore profusely at inanimate objects. Snapped at co-workers. Got accused of physically assaulting one. And then mumbled apologetically, made weird facial expressions ranging from expressing manic depression to hysteria to nothing. Then fell in a heap into my chair, sometimes cradling my head on the desk.

After Chokka Bunnis, my mad but darling friend, bought me a Wonder Bar and then a cool packet of Milo and then calmed me down with a nice long chat outside the confines of the office, my levels of psychotic behaviour considerably reduced.

Renegade hormones. Scarier than the Teletubbies, man.

Everybody’s Changing

Posted: December 22, 2008 in Uncategorized

One of my latest favourite songs is Keane’s Everybody’s Changing…

You’re aching, you’re breaking
And I can see the pain in your eyes
Says everybody’s changing, and I don’t know why

Sitting on the fourth floor and looking out the window at the concrete buildings outside, I realized, like I often do, that I’m getting older. Redundant, I know, but I still feel like the immature nine year old with big dreams swimming in her head. Just a little taller.

Everywhere I turn, I see people changing though. People are growing up, they’re adapting to responsibility and they act mature and stuff. Apart from about three people my age in total, I feel completely disconnected with all my other friends. We’re all growing old, but only just some of us are actually growing up. I’m not one of them.

I guess that’s a good thing; 18 till I die, I hope. But then, it gets unnerving sometimes, sticking out like a sore thumb while standing amidst the hustle-bustle city throng of people in suits in a hurry to get to some appointment or some meeting or some cocktail party.

So little time
Tried to understand that I’m
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game
I try to stay awake and remember my name
But everybody’s changing, and I don’t feel the same

But they say that’s just a phase right? Just a period in time of growing up that you feel you’re a child stuck inside an adult casing. And that it goes away eventually… You join the masses and you grow up. You change too. How come that consolation doesn’t really console me much at all?

Everybody’s changing and I don’t feel right

No, I did not piss off another police man. (I wish!)

But after a little chat with D at the office, I thought I’d talk about dealing with Assholes again.

Apparently, D was minding her own business one day and Asshole walks up to her and goes, “Get out of my way, Potty,” pokes D’s tummy and says, “I used to be like you. Then I dieted.”

Now, under different circumstances, such as watching this on a sitcom, I might have actually found this funny. But see, D is like this freakishly sweet puppy who was quite likely, in another life, one of those happy bunnies prancing in the sunshine while simultaneously feeding the starving children of Africa. And someone calling her fat is like someone kicking the little bunny in the face.

But of course, D was having a bad day already and called Asshole the B-word that rhymes with itch. But she apologized for it later that day, so naturally it doesn’t count. 😛

How would you have handled it? she asked.

Thus, being the considerate darling that I am (har har), I have decided to provide all those confused about how to handle Assholes in their everyday lives with Makuluwo’s Guidelines to Close Encounters of the Asshole (AH) Kind:

1. Stand your ground or get pushed over.
If they say something insulting, do not take it, or the assholity will continue.
Eg- AH: “Move over, Fatty. You’re so massive, the floor is creaking.”
Your response: “So is your mom, assface.”

2. Do NOT show weakness to the AH. Even if what they say or do really hurts. For that is exactly what those maggots feed on. Game-face on; this is war.

3. Have fun with it. Be creative.
Example creative response:
“If you talk in my direction again, I will bury you so far into the ground that the heat from the Earth’s core will incinerate your ass.”

Yeah sure, some people might say, sweetie, just ignore them, you can’t fight fire with fire.

Screw that.
This isnt Star Wars where “good defeats evil with its all-prevailing goodness, tra-la-la-la!” Jeez.
In the real world, bonafide Assholes are indiscriminate towards your level of ‘goodness’, or intelligence or looks or in fact any other characteristic.
They loathe all potential victims equally.

So in a nutshell, how does one kick an Asshole’s butt?
Beat them at their own game.

However approach this advice with some caution; I won’t be held responsible for one of our sweetheart Raalahamis beating you up with his baton for calling him an Assface. 😉