Archive for May, 2008
Day 10,116 – Monday – 05 Jyaistha 1930 – 20 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 26 May 2008
Life has been all about juices lately. Creative, Orange and love.
I had decided that I will change things about my life. I will do things I have not done. I will do things that challenge me. Not like my fucking work, which can be done properly by a monkey, after a bottle of whiskey, or three. I wanted to learn a foreign language and learn to either sing or play an instrument. As per the rules of my life. Mr Jalaluddin had to be absolutely confused about everything and every element of life. It took me one year to decide amongst French, Persian, Turkish and Italian. I agree this list is very strange and knowing me as an absolutely psycho should not have even allowed you to ask the question of why this list is wierd. I decided that I will go for French. The reason? My friend joined the classes and dragged me to them as well. Not at all as exciting a reason as anyone can hope for. Definitely not as exciting as hot French men daubed in Azure paint running naked at the language training centre. If only!
I also wanted to learn either to sing or to play the Guitar, Drums or the Tabla. Again, as per the rules of engagement, one of my friends told me to “Grow the fuck up and learn to sing”. Of course that was simply because he wanted to play the Guitar and wanted to play music with me without having to share his Guitar. But, all in all, in the end. I get to sing. Yay! Jalal, you are an absolutely stupendous idiot. Oh shut up!
The Creative juices have started to flow.
As part of my overall strategy to improve my life, and my health. And to ensure that I do not turn into an overgrown fat hag that is bitter and does not get any sex at all, I have started to change my diet and exercise. The only change in my diet is that now I eat as many fruits as I can get my hands on, so all other items of food have gotten reduced in quantity now. And I exercise by going for a walk/jog for forty minutes a day. It is doing me good. So, as per this new development I have had the opportunity to taste fruits and fruit juices all over the city. I am absolutely in love with fresh fruit juices. Just a random example will the the Orange juice at Dunkin Donuts, it is extremely frothy, but is amazing.
The Orange juices are amazing.
And now, to the most, wicked, cruel and absolutely naughty detail. Now, first of all, any or all of you, who do not want to know sexually explicit or disgusting details, please avert your eyes, because I promise this is not a pretty sight. The rest of you, enjoy to your heart’s content, because I feel absolutely ecstatic in bringing this information to day. Today, I had semen on my shirt. It was mine. A tiny mishap during my morning routine. I didnt realize it before I got into my car. Then I knew. I got so excited by the sheer vulgarity and perversion of the action that I spent the whole day extremely over excited and hyper productive at work. I was at least twice as productive as I am usually. I am such a slut!
The love juices are flowing as well!
Oh, and yes, I am absolutely in love with Mark Wahlberg.
Day 10,110 – Tuesday – 30 Vaisakh 1930 – 14 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 20 May 2008
Dont get me wrong. I love my family. They are everything to me. But, at the same time, they are so seriously irritating.
I dont care what they believe in, or what they think, or how they think life is to be lived, I dont care. What I do care about is to be allowed to live my life how I want to live it. Period. And I dont make the demands on them that regular sons and brothers do, I should be making a lot of noise if the food at home is not well cooked, or if any of sisters has any interaction with any man from outside the family I should make an issue out of that. They all enjoy the freedoms of a society which believes in live and let live but at the same time deny me the same. So confusing.
On top of this, when I asked my mom that I wanted to move out, because they were not ready to accept me and I was not ready to reform myself, and I still wanted to lead a life that could make me happy. Every time she cried. It is not crying. It is blackmail. Her reaction scared me and I didnt talk to anyone else about it, because I cared for her. And when it become unbearable a couple of months ago, I told me father about the same. He told me that since I never talked to him about this, he is not to blame. How can any human being ask for something due to which someone so close to them has been crying about.
I was about to move out a couple of months ago. Then again I see my mother crying. So I decided against it. Yes, I agree, as per what they say, they didnt ask me to stay, but who would, what low life does something when someone else is crying in front of them. Could there have possibly been any other option in this whole world.
My family will never be happy at how I want to live. They do not believe in letting other people live their lives, they believe in their extremist interventionist lifestyle. If I can not be who I am and I am forced to live a lie I will be miserable. If I dont, my family will be miserable, and that would make me miserable.
All of you regulars to my blog have heard this before, but here it comes again.
Back to square one. Basically, no option of being happy in life. Since there is no possible way for me to be happy in this life, because I am never going to be allowed to. I have no idea what to do now.
To people out there reading this, please let people live. Please. Dont make their lives miserable simply because you can. Do not force your ideas on them. Do not consistently tell them what to do, they may not resist you, but they resent it. Do not treat everything they say as disrespect and opposition.
And to all the women out there who have a role in our lives as mothers, sisters, wives and daughters. Dont you dare cry. You have no idea what it does to us. For you it is an evil game through which you get us to do what you want us to do. To us it is painful. You have no idea, because to you it is a tool.
Day 10,106 – Friday – 26 Vaisakh 1930 – 10 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 16 May 2008
If stupidity were Gold my office would be glittering. But, one manages to live with idiots. And enjoy them all the same. Of course when you are making fun of someone with a stright face, it just makes things so beautiful.
And, things are also made beautiful when it is your friend’s brithday. You tell them you are not having cake because of your diet, and your resolve to find good sex, and they dont listen to you. Two of your colleagues grab you and your arms. And the birthday girl, who I hate for now, crams an extra large piece of creamy, soft, melty, delicious, chocolate cake into my face. From that moment onwards, I love chocolate cake. And I love my friend for force feeding me. Of course, the fact that in the action half of it fell on my tie and my incredibly ugly shirt does leave a lot to be desired. So, walking around the office with chocolate cake splotches on my shirt is definitely not something anyone reading this should try.
Oh, and yes, if this does happen to you, and someone mentions it, please, please, please, do not tell them to “You can lick it off if you want to, I can take my shirt off to help you out”. Because then she/he can always slap you.
I tried both, using this on a guy and a girl, same reaction.
Oh and yes, I forgot to post the rules of engagment on the back seat of my car. As you all know, if I know you, then I can drive you around Karachi as you engage in any level of activities in the back seat of my car. That was a given. But, I should have posted the rules for this. The rules are,
Day 10,104 – Wednesday – 24 Vaisakh 1930 – 08 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 14 May 2008
Right now, I am in an incredibly romantic, lonely, longing, bored and expectant mood. Extremely. Bittersweet feelings. A mellow painful longing.
Someone I was chatting online with sent me a link on Greys Anatomy where these two guys are kissing. And, it felt so pure, so lovely and so intense. I just slipped into this mood.
I am thinking that, since I am fat, ugly, and non sexually attractive. I might never find someone. And what of a life lived alone. I know what I want. But I cant get it. What do I do now? Get married?
Yueck! Absolutely confused.
Day 10,102 – Monday – 22 Vaisakh 1930 – 06 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 12 May 2008
What utter, absolute, insane, useless madness! Why the hell do I get a proposition of the softer kind from a woman every fortnight. Why? I shall pen my reply for the coming generations to read. No, I do not want to sleep with you. No, I do not want to fall in love with you. No, I do not want to marry you. And no, I do not want to spend the rest of my life fathering your children. Thank you very much. I would rather have sex with OC from work, if only I had the courage to go upto him and he turns out to be gay, and if he is interested in sex, and if he is interested in me and we are able to find a suitable setting that will allow sex. And now that I have shown you all how seriously I feel about being propositioned by women I think I will still be able to marry a lesbian. Insane, you say? Yes, I reply.
Longish story shortish, doesnt make sense, but I went out for dinner with FF. Now she is a very close friend of a very close friend. And for some reason she thinks that the dinner was not a dinner. She thinks it was a “Dinner Thing”. I will give my listing of engagements below, but till such time, a dinner thing with FF is not a good thing. I can do dinner things with men, with whome there are possibilities, but with women it is just disturbing. As is all the incessant chatter about feelings and emotions. For Goodnesses sake, if I had feelings and emotions I would be menstruating right now.
So, I have no idea what to tell FF. She is expecting something, a call or another dinner or something. And here I am fuck scared of what to do. Maybe I am becoming a normal man, fear of commitment, not calling up women you meet up. Etc. Etc. But, all the same, I cant tell her I am gay, so I need an excuse.
Ladies? Your help required. Which is the best possible excuse?
Another thing, since my engagement has fallen apart and I was uncereminiously dumped by Dr Sahab after having fallen in love with him, women just cant get enough of me. I tell them that even though I didnt like my fiance I was ready to do it for the sake of family honour and she still dumped me, I can see the expression in their eyes stating firmly that my fiance was an idiot and I am God. Of course when I talked about Dr Sahab (converted into a female of course) and the fact that I fell in love with him (her sic?); the eyes, the eyes of the women I tell this to; their eyes become mellow and soft and pink. I can not explain. It is as if in their personal list of human beings I have climbed up twenty billion rungs of the ladder of humanity.
Ah, to be able to manipulate. I love it!
Day 10,101 – Sunday – 21 Vaisakh 1930 – 05 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 11 May 2008
Over the past three days I have been immersed in the concept of friendship. What is a friend? What are friends? How does one become a friend? How does one feel about friends? Why do you take money from me and not return it? Why do I keep the books I borrow from them? And why the hell does NA not follow the codes of conduct of Pakistan male friendship groups. I shall provide a little bit of perspective below.
Pakistani men are a rare breed. In any group of Pakistani male friends conversation revolves around consistent badgering of one of the group by all the others. Generally there is an inevitable policy of turn based circulation of responsibilities. So, if twelve people heckled the fuck out of me last night, I will be doing it to someone else tonight. Love it. But over the course of time some people are selected for this honour more than others.
Now, those of you who belong to the global social subset known as Pakistani-men-who-socialize-with-other-Pakistani-men know exactly what I am talking about. Those of you poor dear extremely unfortunate souls who do not belong to this group will not, can not and will never understand what I am talking about. Pity.
The mere beauty of spending six hours with your friends when eight people just break apart every aspect of your personality in every possible manner and find something ridiculously unacceptable with it and share it with the group and other people pick up on it and add to it. Six hours. A complete definition of yourself and everything that you are about. Amazing.
And then of course, when it just doesnt feel right, and no one has a bulls eye on their forehead, then the group just ends up discussing something absolutely useless and futile. Like yesterdays five hour long discussion on Pakistan, its future, whether we should make a difference or run away, whether we can make a difference, and why does Laetitia Casta have such beautiful boobies. For a gay guy my description of the boobies was very highly rated and one of my friends even went forward to the extent of labling me a closeted hetrosexual with a love for boobies.
I mean, all men love nipples. Gay or straight. Men love nipples. Get over it. And we are also all about the looks. And we fall in love differently. And we will not give you flowers all the time. And we will not tell you that we love you. And we will not treat sex as a gift. And we will not let go of the remote. And we will not stop meeting our friends. And of course, we will love sex. Get the fuck over it.
I am thinking about starting a relationship advice and another gay advice blogs. Dont know if I should go ahead with it.
Day 10,098 – Thursday – 18 Vaisakh 1930 – 02 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 08 May 2008
Apart from all the random whims, fancies and desired that I have on a day to day. Now I also want the ability to remember things that I wanted to blog about during the day. As I sit here I am clenching my fists just trying to remember what it was that I just had to blog about. But I have no idea what it was.
In other news, I am absolutely, completely, unequivocally, unabashedly and properly in love with Dilbert. The way office life is captured. Amazing. I love it. And I love Scott Adams. For all of you who work in offices, please dont waste time reading this collection of stupidities, go to Google and search for Dilbert online.
For the rest of you. Why are you still reading this. Google. Dilbert. Now! Or I will have to use my new leather belt!