Archive for October, 2008


Screw the Bus

Goddamn I hate buses.

I’m through with the bus. I can’t stand it.

I get up in the morning, ready myself. All clean and pristine, the smell of my deodorant just pungent enough to intrigue. Clean shaven and aftershave-en face. Perfect.

Then I walk to hell.

Stand by the road, waiting for one to appear around the bend, with about as much hope as a turkey at thanksgiving that it’ll be relatively empty. One comes along. I get in, push through the people standing by the door and swivel on my feet in the middle aisle, looking impatient. God, I look like a jackass. Pay the fare.

Eventually someone gets up right next to me. I look over at the empty seat left over, and mosey over. Then, like those bastard drivers who steal parking spaces, some runt materializes from the depths and quickly deposits him/herself in the seat. You never see them before they separate from the pack. Ya see, they’re like a herd of zebras. And much like the lion, you never see the individual for the herd. Just that lions don’t try public transport.

So after this ritual repeats many times over, I finally get a seat. Then I promptly get up again to get off the bus. When I finally reach work, I am about as pristine as a wet chicken. This is the kind of thing that drives a straight man to become a metrosexual. He’ll get so messed up in the bus, he has to spend hours in the gents room making up for it. Seriously! Why do you think they call it METROsexual? See the connection? It sounds like someone who has sex on the french subway system. Or with it… I’m not sure…

Anyway, back to the bus. On the way home, it’ll be a completely different story. I can get a seat. Great. But woe is the person who gets an “aisle seat”, so to speak. Many will be the old geezers bumping into you. I’m a regular guy, I’d say. I’m all for some fair maiden placing herself on my lap in the bus, but if you’re some 40+ smarmy man, stay the hell away.

But, I have no choice. I’m stuck on these stupid things.

Goddamn I hate buses.


Multiple Posts

I’ve been posting two posts at a time these past few days, and I’ve noticed something.
You don’t notice the one I post first.

That is, according to google analytics. I am yet to think of a viable explanation for this yet, and yes, I DO want people to read what I write. I do not profess to “just write my thoughts down”. I AM narcissistic.
And thank god for firefox’s spell check.

So, one post a time now.



The Jester’s Theory of Poya Days

I’ve had a lot of time to think these days, and I am quite sure that I have stumbled upon a… breakthrough, in the field of social behaviors and history.

My theory is concerning Poya Days, or full moon days when we Sri lankans all get a holiday, and why we have them. Well, here it is :

Many thousands of years ago, back when Buddhism was just arriving, there lived a clan of werewolves in Sri Lanka. There were also regular humans around, as you might have been taught.

Now, these two “factions” could have lived in harmony if not for the fact that werewolves love kurakkan. And the villagers had it in abundance.
Also, the werewolves were at their most powerful during the full moon. Therefore, to protect themselves from the werewolf menace, the villagers built mini-forts and holed up in these dome shaped structures(Because everyone knows werewolves hate domes) and waited out the full moon with their kurakkan safely stored in the forts.

And so eventually the werewolves died of starvation since they couldn’t get any kurakkan.

That is, in it’s entirety, my theory on why we have poya days.

Below is the evidence –

Notice the rising sun, commonly seen in sunny paradise isles like ours. Also the distinctly tropical trees in the background.

And the final piece of evidence –

Convincing, innit?


You’re a cynic, I’m a cynic, EVERYONE’S a cynic!

If you haven’t been living under a rock for past few decades, you might have noticed that it’s become pretty “fashionable” to label yourself a “cynic”. You see many people going around spewing sentences about how jaded and world weary they are.

So I decided to see what exactly cynicism is. So, onto wikipedia.

Apparently, cynic literally means “dog-like”. Certain Greek philosophers in ancient Greece decided to pursue happiness by giving up all materialistic cravings and just living as is. Shocking, I would’ve thought they meandered around with an evil look on their faces and making snide remarks about everything.

So, when exactly did this change? Seems it was ye olde writers who did it. Shakespeare and his brethren. The bastards.

So now we have a bunch of people prancing about with a “more-jaded-than-thou” attitude and trying to be sarcastic at every turn. Cynicism’s fine, just don’t pretend to be one when your life is all rainbows and lollipops for everyone.