Here I am, supremely pissed because for some insane reason none of the blogs open. Not even mine, and all those cool games I wanted to download from several gaming blogs now await my perusal from some cyber cafe. Thankfully torrent is back to work, and I'm busy downloading thirty-seven kinds of shit from various torrent websites which all keep flickering back and forth to life any time of the day. At least the speed is usually good.
On top of that I'm also in an air-conditioned environment, jacking off to hot porn in the cyber cafe we all know. Tick one more item off my bucket list- Masturbate at college.
Yahoo, but that felt good.
Y'all with internships, I don't envy you. You have a busy summer, but I'm simply going to sit this one out- fuck the internship, maa chudaye those motherfuckers. What good is a summer you can't enjoy? Although this isn't my idea of an enjoyable experience, with the firewall in place and AS going around with his squint which says, I'm going to catch you one day, Nair, and you're going to regret it, hahahaha and the evil laugh.
No, sir, this guy's going to have to attend a summer wedding. Not my own, thankfully, but one of the cousins'. And if you think your hometown is worse, think of an autowalla who'll curse in pure malayalam, and this is something I heard from one of them-
"You monkey-tailed brainless bastard with your illegitimate son from the dried-up rotting womb of your three-cocked whore of a wife and your hand busy in your crappy asshole and a fake license, look where you're going!"
There are just too many adjectives in my native tongue, and all that "Bhenchod" or "Madarchod" or "Betichod" "Maa ki chut" "behen ka lauda" "Laude" "Chutiye" "Harami bhosadiwalle" "Gatargandu" (That's from amravati) "Chamanchutiye" (ditto) are way, way too crude for these people whose favourite pastime in past ages was stringing up alliterations in poems that could go on for hours. And now, they devote their energies to making up such intricate, wonderfully-pronounced cusses that don't even seem foul until you understand the language.
And these are just the autowallas. I already know Kerala's real street culture. It's mostly the fisherman blood, and even the youngest thugs have that tongue... you know when they say some languages are made for stuff? French for the romantics, Irish for the thugs, japanese for business, english for casual talk, and so on?
Well, Malayalam is one of the few languages that has been butchered in a different way. A language full of endless alliterations that can be strung up in so many different ways.
You've got to love a language like that; any autowalla, any thug, any pissed-off malayali has at his command a bevy of words and elaborate ways to string that up in.
I'm in a lot of trouble, though. I'll be meeting a certain guy who used to provide me with certain... products. Read Contraband. And it was uncut contraband, as well... not exactly columbian, but pure nonetheless. But on my family's behalf I've still gotta go...
"Though shall not fall into temptation, for in temptation lies damnation." A priest once told me that. Out of the church, one of my friends, an avid smoker, took out a joint and smoked it, then provided an addendum. "In damnation lies pleasure."