I *heart* Bombay (and well..Boston)

I'm urban..in the way other people are mountain-people or tunafish junkies. I love city life...something about dreary concrete blocks and grumpy people totally gets my juices flowing. Ergo, this will be a blog about me, my two favourite cities (Bombay and Boston), my addiction to Vietnamese coffee and my views on Gregorian chant and it's efficacy in curing some types of tympannic membrane rupture. Enjoy!

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Woof! It's time for the pet peeve....

Well, it's been a week of confronting my pet peeves here in ViksterLand (Or Viksteristan if you prefer). And no, I've bitched about allergy season long enough to even have pollen on my list of pet peeves..(OMG! I said "bitched" and "pet" in the same sentence...I must be a genius). I've collected a long long list of things that piss me off and behaviour that gets me all worked up. I need to vent. Festival time is over till the Diwali house cleaning season starts next week (Wilkommen to my murderers/assasins...their names? Dustus paralysis throatii, Danderus Canii and Paintus Flakes Sinusii ...Morituri te salutamus!)

1. Liars: I do/have done my fair share of lying. But, true to my Hypocritic Oath, I hate liars. Over the last month, I've had the opportunity to disprove Anne Frank's theory that "All people are basically good". People exist to (Pardon my French) "fuck you over" and "hurt you needlessly". Especially people who tell you "We want to date" and then end up on every online chatroom looking for a good fuck.

2. Beggars: I don't care about how horrible I am or uncaring I sound but I'm sorry. I DO NOT need to be guilted into giving money to people who push maimed children into my face at traffic lights. It's a very standard middle-class viewpoint which all you Champagne Socialists will hate.

3. Cowards: I don't care how deep you're burrowed into your closet. Giving me fake info about yourself doesn't necessarily endear me to you. If I had a Paisa for every Amit, Raj and Rahul I am introduced to, I'd have enough for a blow-up rubber doll I could take to clubs and pretend was my boyfriend (Of course, he'd just meet another airhead and leave me....).
Honestly, I understand how tough it is to come out, but lying to me about your name, job etc.? What do you think I'll do with that info? Sell it online to gayshaadi.com?

4. Markers with no erasers: My wrists are BLACK from wiping the board off after I make a presentation everyday (thereby neatly hiding the cutting I do to pass my time at Barista). WHERE are the erasers? Is there an eraser bunny that steals them all every night? He must be in cahoots with the elf that steals my pens every night. I swear, if someone rejects me because I'm too black-wristed, I'm blaming the eraser bunny!

5. People who bend book spines: GRR! I will throw the book at you and mug you for the money you owe me for the book. I love my books..I'm proud I haven't ever sold or destroyed one in over 27 years of reading (Yes. I learnt my alphabet at 11 months..I was a prodigy. Then I discovered heroin.)

6. Avvarekkai - No translation for this most-despicable-of-Konkani-veggies. Amma uses it in place of peas and I HATE it! I'm too old to throw tantrums so I just flatly refuse to eat it and order up a paneer makhanwala to go with the rice and dali toi (Punjabi food at a Konkani dinner table? Hai Ram!)

7. Shaving - I postpone this as long as I can and look progressively more and more intense as the week goes by. It's got to be the most GodAwful monotonus job in the world! I do enjoy getting shaved though..perhaps I'll head to my barber tonight..
Shaving....there....is also a pet peeve. I like to be well groomed....there...thus arises the major issue with itching as the hair grows back. Why can't I be like those hairless Eastern Europeans? Instead if I didn't shave I can easily be mistaken for a Persian carpet...Sigh. Thank G-d I live in India though..I can scratch my balls in public and people think it's a sign of manhood.

I'm peeved out. Felt good to get out my frustrations. I'm off to order some panner makhani and scratch my balls in private while reading a book with a perfect spine. Bliss!

Current music:
Where have all the cowboys gone? - Paula Cole

That's a weird lament for an Indian to sing along to, dontcha think?

8 Comments:

  • At 7:29 AM, Blogger Archster said…

    hahahaha... But i like "Avvarekkai".

    And happy ball scratching then!

    (that was a first!)

     
  • At 7:43 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    ... i just think that we all live in our own ... little rooms .. own rooms of thoughts and our own views .... we live in our world as we would like it to be... at times seeing out side at times not... we even see what we want to and not otherwise... so it depends why people lie and why not .. why we hide and why we not..each to his own VIk .. understand that and u will not be so upset!

     
  • At 7:51 AM, Blogger Vikster said…

    Anonymous: It's a cop out. Taking the easy way out to protect yourself.

     
  • At 8:18 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    if I could just be the chair you're sitting on.

    Duncan

     
  • At 8:19 AM, Blogger anydamnguy said…

    ok . dont be so upset. youll get a date. you will, you will.

    Listen to gospels.

    " You will win when u believe"

    LOL

     
  • At 8:26 AM, Blogger Vikster said…

    LOL @ Duncan...You could if you let me know who you are!!

    It really is frustrating loving someones wit and humour and not knowing who they are. It's FRUSTRATING. Get it?

    Just IM me for Pete's sake and lets get this over with.

     
  • At 10:22 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    did you just say for PETE'S SAKE? I love it.

    "I'll drink a tub of your bathwater."


    --i stole that from spike lee

    DUNCAN

     
  • At 4:00 AM, Blogger Enemy of the Republic said…

    Actually, I sing that song all the time. It probably makes more sense from an American.

    Thanks for posting on my blog. Yours is great! I like how honest and downright real you are. And I've never been to Bombay. You make me want to go there!

     

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