Sunday, May 30, 2010

DO NOT tell me i have fat legs, fathead.

you have no idea how unsexy that makes you look.

and no, saying ‘baby, there’s more of you to love’ is not going to make things better.

even your mum wouldn’t consider that a compliment, peter, you ass!

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Friday, May 28, 2010

oooh, you are my champion!

this young peter i know has been working seriously hard at being more macho.

i’m playing sport on weekends, he informed me a few months ago.

in the dilli summer?

ha! chicks swoon when you tell them you play sport.

is that a fact?

yup. plus i’m using lotus matte effect SPF 50 sun screen. it works, see? no tan.

hmm, no oily skin either. maybe i should try it too.

yes, you should. it needs to have SPF 50, minimum.

will do, sis!

shut up. i scored two goals today, so the sunscreen doesn’t count.

awesome. who were you playing?

the boys.

your roomies?

yeah…against the local boys.

which local boys?

you know...the ones who play footer at the park.

the kendriya vidhyalaya kids???

uh...yeah...'re such a star!

ha ha, yourself. we won, i scored, and THAT’S the official story.

(peter, my sweet, the way i’m going to tell it this one’s going to get better and better :)

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Wednesday, May 19, 2010

woops! tripped right into her vagina, did you?

call me a cynical cunt if you please, but i just don’t buy the ‘i was so drunk and stoned’ explanation.

you see, the last time i was on substances, i did exactly what i wanted to.

if you’d consult with your pecker, peter, i’m sure you’d find that’s exactly what you did too.

it’s an abiding male fantasy that chicks don’t want to get laid. and while i hate to burst your bubble dearest, actually, we do.

the one thing that can put us off though, is to deal with the whimpering aftermath you seem to go through.

relax, it’s really not such a dire moral issue.

plus, it would be so infinitely more attractive to do away with the sniveling and say – madam, my compliments, it was a pleasure to screw you.

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Thursday, April 22, 2010

what do you mean why don’t i just go pee?

you’re so smug at the pub, peter, siphoning away the last pitcher of beer while i cross my legs and rock myself in agony. 

bravo, chugged it down, did you? my bursting bladder salutes you.

no, i don’t want to get another pitcher.

sure, i’ll tell you what i’m stressing out about. is there a loo? will it be clean? will the flush work? should i squat or crouch? will i even make it???

yes please, let’s leave already.

oh, you think it’s funny to keep me waiting while you whip behind that tree by the sidewalk?

bad move, peter. 

tonight we won’t even be shaking hands.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

cougar town

last night as i entered into senseless trawling and youtube nirvana just to ease the pain of the next six (ok fine, five) days of backbreaking work, i found this gem:

yes peter, it’s alisha chinoy. the one who cried “anu malik”? good riddance it would have been too, to him and his harmonium.

but wait, we digress.

the only point to this post is to raise a toast to the original cougar.

these days, people in america insist that courtney cox of monica fame is headlining cougar town or some such, but really, we all know that she was made in india only.

much before it became classy to seduce younger men (refer demi moore), chinoy had her regulars; dino morea (now known as dinosaur morea) and milind “baba” soman. and just in case you managed to overlook the obvious, she planted herself in the middle of every video, surrounded by other nubile men and women yelling “look at me!” and let’s face it, all the toy boys did. bang in the middle of her ample cleavage in fact. (don’t believe me? ask google; it suggests “alisha chinoy hot” and really if google doesn’t know, then who does?)

so peter, just a note to say, watch out for the cougars!

note: this tip has been sent in by counselor mathangi krishnamurthy who has taken valuable time out from getting her phd to help your cause. 

Sunday, March 21, 2010

wanna jiggy jiggy with her hoo ha, baby?

there’s a girl i know who makes me feel like i’ve grown a moustache.

she wears an endless trail of floaty stuff, dangles her strappy slipper from a dainty pink toe and tosses her flouncy haircut every once in awhile so that it sways attractively around her. her sugary voice trills and tinkles with frilly conversation. occasionally, she giggles like an imp. sweeter than hello kitty she is. the kind of fluffy miss that might star in a karan johar valentine’s day movie.

it's impossible to resist the urge to touch your upper lip, just to check.

some women always have this effect. 

they walk into a room and make you feel instantly more macho.

yes, i know this seems to work out very well for you, peter.

but let me give you an inside tip, this kind of damsel never says vagina.

just think, this is what sex talk will sound like when you hoochie coochie with her and make all those poochie woochie babies.

Monday, March 8, 2010

waxing might yet make a man out of you

subject: nair for men

are all depilatory agents (foams, creams, sprays) the same? i just discovered something called nair for men which is a hair remover for men, on the net. kuch naya nahin lag raha but it seems people use it for back hair removal as well. is it any better or worse than waxing?

i don't think i have enough backhair to correctly respond to your email, peter.

and i have no inside information on nair.

plus, i just shave usually.

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Monday, February 22, 2010

it’s time you made your own bed and breakfast.

while your mum has dedicated a lifetime to making your favourite meals, washing your underwear and telling you how wonderous you are, you might have noticed that nobody else has the time. yup, it’s a hard fact of life that must be acknowledged and accepted - mums are the worst trainers in the world when it comes to bringing up adult men.

radical as it sounds, other than childbirth there is little that can be classified as man-stuff and girl-stuff today and an essential part of internalizing this cataclysmic shift is getting your own pad, my friend. 

besides which, i assure you there are a number of advantages to this plan. 

let me introduce you to the top ten right away:

1. you can have the chikas over. that’s a no-brainer of course.

2. you can impress the shit out of them. luckily for you, this doesn’t take much. given that the majority of indian men live with their mommies through adulthood and beyond, the very fact that you have dared to snap the apron strings could do wonders for your sex life.

3. you can leverage their irrepressible instinct to make you a better man. whether you are a gourmet chef or pride yourself on your tasteful selection of take out menus, whether you obsessively hound the maid or miss the pot when you pee, whether you handpicked your home furnishings or live and let live with your mouldy mattress – it’s inevitable that we’ll want to better it, and you.

4. you can have cigarettes, porn, women and other such contraband lying around, no questions asked. sweet, huh?

5. you can set up the TV, hi fi, fridge, gaming console and computer within arm's reach of the bed, just the way you always wanted.

6. you can be lord and master of the remote (a once in a lifetime opportunity, this). plus you can watch ftv, project runway, wife swap, grey’s anatomy, late night gemini, espn, or erm, anything else you like, in complete and dignified privacy.

7. you can have the guys over on weekends and game nights and pre/post party booze ups.

8. you can do away with the petty formality of dressing up and walk around buck naked if you are so inclined.

9. you can have mommy fuss over you more than ever when you visit on the weekends.

10. you can master the kind of stuff that could potentially make chikas (and mommy) swoon - viz, how to make some eggs, toast, tea and your bed.

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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

down, boy!

let’s be very clear. my job is to be sexy, smart and altogether too good to be true. yours is to be complimentary…without being shady. tall order eh? especially for your short order brains that are otherwise hardwired into shadiness? so yes, we come full circle.

here peter is a little lesson on appropriate responses. edgy, without being shady. complimentary without being blasé. and appreciative, without needing a bib. (don’t waste your spit, peter. it’s a good antiseptic for when you cut your skin, pretending to be head over heels in love with me.)

we begin by asking you to unlearn certain forms of behaviour that seem to have spread themselves among the male population through information mismanagement.

(a) stare at my boobs when talking to me
(b) prefix “too” when using adjectives – for example “you’re too good” doesn’t convince me that i am better than the rest of the girls you’re leering at. it merely makes me feel like i am too good for you
(c) talk endlessly extolling your virtues at the cost of everything else, including mine
(d) mention your apartment on the first date
(e) mention your mother
(f) use the words “hot”, “sexy”, “nice” or “sweet”
(g) ask about my shoes; no, i do not find that attractive
(h) give me a “men are like this and women are like that” line, even if it is “women are so much more sensitive than men”. it only makes me realize that i am too sensitive to be with a brute like you.

kosher vocabulary:
(a) attractive, beautiful, striking
(b) smart, intelligent, articulate
(c) funny, witty, sharp

adjectives with edge? use with caution:
(a) addictive
(b) something about you (tom jones said it too, except he prefaced it with “maybe it’s the way you wear your blue jeans so tight”; don’t do that)
(c) if you can carry it off, insert “je ne sais quoi” in a sentence. (not this sauce has some “je ne sais quoi” but perhaps “there’s something to this conversation, a sort of je ne sais quoi”)

(a) ask about what i do, beyond the mandatory first line
(b) argue; intelligently
(c) be cynical, peppered with a dash of idealism

and if you must be inappropriate, peter, please preface it with, “this is terrible but may i confess…?”

this note to peter is by counsellor mathangi krishnamurthy whom you can hook up with at 'la chaim'.

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Tuesday, February 9, 2010

so sweet you are sometimes :)

after so many weeks of mentally prepping myself to hate dilli de launde, i meet you instead:

excuse me, ma’am, says the kingfisher goodtime girl, please would you mind exchanging seats with mr...?

i look up at you as you blush prettily behind the air hostess.

erm…why? i enquire, puzzled, as i watch you flush white and then start to turn hot pink. 

uh...sorry to trouble you, you manage to mumble, my uh...grandma has the seat next to you, so please will you exchange seats...?

unfortunately for you, i am completely mesmerized by the garish contrast your complexion is beginning to present next to the air hostess’ ketchup red suit. (god only knows how you do it! the only one who knows when i blush is me - all i do is turn tingly dark chocolate and no one else can ever tell the difference!)

you notice me staring and begin turning an even hotter shade of pink, by the time you find your voice again, your ears have turned purple:

um, my seat is 12 F...just two rows, it’s also a window seat like yours...please don’t, uh, don’t have to move if you don’t want to...oh, thank you! thank you very much!

finally, i manage to snap out of my stupor and squeeze past the air hostess. 

that's when i notice the vintage lady clutching your arm like it’s a lifetime achievement award.

no problem at all, i smile at the two of you as i go by.

she looks into your face and beams like its christmas already.

and you, you beam pinkly back at me...cute as a cupcake!


if you aren't careful, peter, i'm going to have to eat you up for dessert!

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