I’ve been told that ketu in my 12th house makes me very strong (renjay 🙂 ). Nice. And shani in my 8th house makes me susceptible to danger. What I am more concerned about is my 1st house, where HDFC is lodged. Can’t they waive off the damn loan?
Amazing how some people actually find the needle in the haystack, and read the fine print on it that says ‘it is about me’… seriously, how can you be so eager to believe the worst about yourself?
“Amma, why is there always a man and a woman falling in love in movies. Even in Tangled. Even in Cars! Why?”
“Amma, must women get breasts? And why do they wear a bra? And if they are wearing it inside, why does it have so many designs? no one can see it.”
“Amma, if grown-ups know more, how come they believe everything in advertisements and buy those things?”
Try telling people that you don’t want to hear gossip or unpleasant conversations about yourself.
Initially a small part of you will regret that decision, because much as you don’t like hearing crap about yourself, you also don’t want to leave your back unguarded (come knife, dig deeper).
BUT, after the initial minutes (or hours), it’s a HUGE weight off your chest. Try it.
But gossip unrelated to you and yours is always fun.
Gaddafi reminds me of so many people I know, some of whom I don’t dislike. Vatya fun!
This revolution thing sweeping across the region is scaring me a wee bit. In some of these places, what they are getting in return for the one thrown out is well, to put it mildly, dubious.
We moved a couple of months ago. We are not very neighbourly, exchanging-cups-of-sugar and sweet-nothings kind of people. we are more the ‘nod-your-head-when-you-meet-in-the-lift’ kind of people.
We meet 2 neighbours regularly in the lift. One of the ladies can never walk a straight line, and the other looks ready to mop up puke in an instant.
Of course the ageing caretaker runs to their aid every time — to press the lift button and to confirm the depth and length of the neck and hem lines. Oh Mohammed, you charming old lech.
R (my sober half) is against using the S(tupid) and D(umb) words. He feels it’s judgemental and unfair. I on the other hand use the S & D words liberally, and feel stupidity and dumbness must be outed.
Let me start with many of the 18- to 24-year-old Indians I’ve been meeting. They are stupid. And dumb. And think bagging a job in a call centre makes them hip. It only makes you dumb, you stupid.
BPOs are America’s revenge on India, for flooding their labour market with our intellect. It is their attempt to dumb down an entire generation of people, so that they are not driven or ambitious enough to pursue bigger dreams than answering marketing calls in the dead of the night.
The Arabs and the Israelis deserve each other. They are a perfect match. They each believe they ARE the CHOSEN ones. And they both believe that they are victimised. By every one. Every smelly fart and loud burp is an attempt to insult them. Get over it people. Or get back into the Dali painting you escaped from.
I’ve had it with VPL (you fashion-no-stas, that means visible panty line). What’s the big deal? It’s ok not to wear panties. It’s ok to show some g-string. But it’s not ok to show panty line? Who the eff came up with that rule?
Fortunately for me, I wear jeans almost all the time — so I am not forced to respond (violently) to VPL advice.
I’ve said this before. Either here, or in one of my other social/public venting forums. I have more in common with those I dislike, than those I like. Though I believe, I carry off the ‘dislike factors’ better. Or delusion is contagious, and I need to stop watching Gaddafi on youtube (only to pick up his dance moves).