Raining Colours

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often

That phase where you talk a million syllables of silence, where there is a profound meaning to a leaf drifting in the wind; where every second takes on an divine mission; And in a neon moment, the banal act of the spider lunching, mutates to a tale of survival, instinct and the way things are…

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often

That phase where your intellect craves like a hungry child for a bosom, where there is a dearth of opulence in the crowd around you.

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often

That phase where you repress the urge to break into fragments, where you find yourself alone in a crowd…And in a flash of wisdom you see everything blazing sulphur brilliance-It’s raining colours…

You were saying?

This blog seems to have slumbered enough.

As I write this, one of life’s infinite wisdom has stirred me deeply…

“Whoever gossips about you, eventually gossips about the other person and how they reacted to news about you”

Do you feel that people are constantly talking behind your back and you haven’t had the slightest chance of defending yourself? Do you feel that people don’t give you a fair chance to talk about your side of the story? Do you think they feel that they are afraid about what ugly truths they will unearth if they hear from you?

A gossiper’s brain has always been pictured as a labyrinth of dark avenues, with faded tributes to people’s embarrassing moments in washed out colors… But lately I realized that a gossiper is really not that high on the IQ monitor. The routines are pretty straight forward. I have so far researched and observed

Routine A

  • Gossips about Person A to Person L
  • Loses favor with Person A because Person A is not a chip idiot and gets wind of itImage
  • Apologizes to Person A and Gossips about Person L to Person A
  • Damage control backfires. Gossiper is officially a douchebag

Routine B

  • Gossips about Person A to Person S
  • Loses favor with Person A because Person A is not a chip idiot and gets wind of it
  • Vigorously constructs lies about Person A and hopes the whole world will turn against Person A
  • Damage control backfires. Gossiper is officially a douchebag

Routine C

  • Gossips about Person A to Person T
  • Loses favor with Person A because Person A is not a chip idiot and gets wind of it
  • Tries to earn sympathy with world and Person T in private and in social media
  • Damage control backfires. Gossiper is officially a douche bag

Routine D

  • Gossips about Person A to Person Z
  • Loses favor with Person A because Person A is not a chip idiot and gets wind of it
  • Teams with Person Z and tries to insult and gain joy in tormenting Person A
  • Damage control backfires. Gossiper and Person Z are officially douche bags

Routine E

  • Gossips about Person A to Person V
  • Person A ***** up gossiper
  • Damage control backfires Person A is a douchebag but everyone secretly thinks gossiper deserved it

It’s time to move on my dear reader. Let me quote Albus Dumbledore “That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children’s tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence… That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped”

 Note: This post is dedicated to Apar. I’m still around and I understand every painful tug at the heart. Let’s move on and write some blog posts like the good old days!

Men – 101 (Lesson 1)

Raj walks into the lobby of the famous interior decorator’s office.

“This is a nice place Archie. Let’s just pick a color and get out. There’s a match on ESPN I have to catch”


“Allo! Bonjour… How are you? It eez nice tho meeeth you Cherie!” A very french and a very gay designer welcomes us into his beautifully furnished office space.

“It ees vonderful no?” His cheerfulness is catchy. A definite positive and joyous vibe surrounds him…

My friend Raj looks over at me. Raj is not homophobic. Thank God for that!

Homophobia has become a fashion statement for testosterone deprived, fickle minded men and women on a gossip diet these days. It’s a relief to be around someone who doesn’t need to pick on someone’s sexual preference to make himself look macho.

“Hey I have to get back home to watch the match. Can we rush through this?” Raj fiddles.

“Oh Oui, but ufcourse, let me ge ze color palette and ve can v0rk on eet”

“Actually I just wanna make it cream colored or something”

Our designer flinches like someone sand papered his behind.

He walks over and hands us one of those circular color pallets each.

“this ees a color veel. Diametrically opposite colors are complimentary colors. They give bold…err… contrasting…ze brilliant” Raj ducks, the flailing arms barely missing him.

“like…er… Amber and India Green, you kno, dark lava and perzian blue”Picture from: keenviewdotcom

His fingers are a blur as he points to diff fuzzy patches of color on a giant multi colored barcode kind of art work behind his desk.

“Colors that are ze voisin…er.. ze neighbor no? Next to next. Zey are pleasant…relaxing. Like ze salmon,orchid and eggplant make ze nice scheme. You take your time and come to me no? You speak in ze next room sil vous plait?”

Mr.Fancy colors ushered us into another room where Raj sat in shocked silence.

“Well I’ll be fucked!”


“Sorry boogs… but what the hell was that? India green? Persian something? That racist bastard. I don’t get it”

“Dude, you’ve been watching Russel Peters”

“Screw that… He is talking about A FISH-A VEGETABLE-AND-WHAT I THINK IS A FLOWER. Do YOU know what he is talking about? What’s with this wheel?”

“Relax! There are instructions behind it… “

“Instructions?” waving the sheet at my face, “Men don’t read instructions…Our colors are programmed like windows default.” Counting out with his fingers “Red, blue, green, yellow. Fruits and animals have their own damn names. I got a game to watch. You and Monet here finish up”

Lesson 1 – He may have all the colors of emotion, but a little over 14 basic colors might actually piss him off

Height of Recycling!

I came across a picture in an e-mail forward and it got me nostalgic!

Back in high school we were discussing about a project, that we were supposed to present on Nov 15th: World Recycling Day.


The following conversation is a true. All similarities to people, expressions , stupid ideas and rude gestures are by law of nature. It is designed to offend people whom it is targeted at and if you can’t handle it, go play with your Cinderella glow in the dark pumpkin carriage. The names are changed to protect them from total social ostacrization and widespread pointing and laughing in the street.

Here goes:

Hari  : So back to the topic guys.. what do we do?

Seth  :Recycling day? What do we recycle?

Jigu  :My mom recycles food everyday macha…

Evie : So… tell us already!

Jigu : The chutney I had for breakfast turns into a gravy for dinner! he he

Me    : Evie don’t throw chalk at him, here take my math book. It’s heavier.

Seth :C’mon man, we have to beat the other sections

Hari : Macha I have an idea! recycled condoms!

Dresses made from recycled condoms!

Can't think of an appropriate caption!

All :huh? what?he he he! Condom na yenna? (What’s a condom?) I’ve never seen one before, I think my brother has them, Waaaaccck! Chiiiii!.. etc, etc. Some walk out.

Seth :Wait wait, let’s see what he has to say.

Hari: Ille macha, we can use plastic wrap instead of condom na? My auntie came from America, she brought this saran wrap which she wraps food with.

Seth : Fucken retard!

Jigu : So you’ll collect used ones?

Me   : Retching sound

Hari: What like y’all had better ideas!

Seth: It’ll break you idiot.

Evie : I still don’t know what it is!

Jigu : So you’ll collect used ones and wash them? (bewildered expression)

Hari : ok ok… how about gloves? 5 in one !

All     : (@$%^ #%&^>R@&M&^*^^****$#@#!!?)!!!!

Hari : A genius is never respected in his generation

Evie  : But we don’t know what a condom is!

Lucy: It’s like a sweater for the penis…

All : ROFL!


Evie now an expecting mother. She is 7 months along and has been married for 8 and a half months (arranged marriage ofcourse). Guess she didn’t have sweaters on her shopping list!

Hari works for a medical supply chain (Irony of life! Who knows he might be stealing a couple of latex gloves now and then)

Lucy teaches middle school… Sweaters indeed!

White-Knuckled Freefall…

Ok, here’s the thing. Everyone goes through a hard phase in life. It goes by many names: depression,time out, burn out, breakdown etc.

The past month has found me in one of those hard phases in life. Many changes have to be made, realities to be faced, truths to be accepted. Having been a listener and a soldier all this time, it’s no surprise that life has left me with no one to turn to.

How do you turn to people for help when you’ve been their shoulder in similar situations? How do you cry and not listen? How do you cut in and say “I’ve heard enough of your whining, I have some of  my own”? How do you make people understand that you aren’t avoiding them, just trying to make sense out of your life? How much can you hope for people to realize that you are human too?

Looking back at the past month: “Been busy”, “I’m meeting someone else”, “At work”, “In a meeting”, “On the toilet”, “I was sleeping”, “Taking my dog to the vet” were some of the reasons I spewed on friends who wanted to catch up. I’ve been absolutely free, met no one, not had a meeting in a long while, don’t have a dog and I don’t use my phone in the bathroom.

There were people who decided I was haughty and just plain stopped speaking to me. “You are too busy for us huh?”, ” She must be busy with her ‘other’ friends”, “She’s not here when I need her, what color shirt should I pick now?”, “Whatever, I’m not bothered”

There were also the ones who saw the walls and shamelessly barged in dragging me out kicking and screaming. I owe my sanity and smile to them.

Here are  10 unforgettable moments:

10. The bottled eyed fish says “What’s the point in just being there for the heehee s, I have to be a shoulder too. Come on, what’s going on?”

9. My sister and I go out on a girls’ night out. Too disturbed to enjoy, I drag her to unrelated places that just pop into my head. That night in bed, I get her SMS “I enjoy spending time with you! We should do this more often you know? I love you”

8. Marcus calls from far far away:  “My friend will pick you up, you are getting a full day at the spa. Now tell me, is something wrong Boogs?”

“You can’t BUY information from me like that”

“Plan B is coercion – choose wisely”

7. Long ride to my favorite restaurant in the world with my best friend.

6. Mom treads carefully and makes sure she doesn’t leave me alone a lot. We find our way to a play through pouring rain. Quite an adventure.

5. BPC (Haven’t obtained permission to publish his name yet) makes sure that I get a huge hug and we tell each other that we’ll be ok. The plays and movies make us feel a little better. His dandanakka dance made sure we laughed our asses off for sometime, like nothing bad had ever happened…

4. Ashwin notes that I haven’t been eating. I get a call at 1.30 am at work. “Hopey, I’m at your office and I brought food.”

3. Thomas takes me to watch ‘The ugly truth’. It actually helped a little. “You are my best friend and my sister. I can’t see you like this. I need you”, he says. For once, my eyes well up when am not sad.

2. My little brother IMs me in the middle of the night : Arun: wat happened???am so worried about you…
1. The need to get away from people and places and faces drives me to church. The silence irrigates my parched soul and tears finally feel free to run their course… Feeing a tug, I open my eyes… Between my bowed head and my lap is a tiny little fist peppered with my tears, it opens to reveal a small candy bit in half.

As I walk out, the candy tucked in my cheek and the tears back in the vault, there seems to be something different about the night air… Atleast I’m walking now…

Saturday comes when I want it to!

‘Where the hell are you?’ demanded a harsh voice over the phone.

‘Who the F***k aaa yew?’ I slurred.

‘Huh? You overslept you cow’ Sounded like nails on a chalk board.

‘Whaazure prablem biAtch?’

‘We had to shop at 6’

‘I’ll be there in an hour’

‘It’s 1.30 in the morning’

‘Oh fish’

That’s how I lost my saturday.

Saturday morning was spent watching Underworld and Without a paddle. I slowly drifted off to sleep mid-afternoon and lost my entire day.

Sunday proved to be a different story though. Thomas and I had plans for a play that Sathish had invited us to. We learned that Sathish wasn’t feeling well and decided that it wasn’t fair for us to watch the play without him.

Missed the Bloggers meet, missed the play and somehow ended up in Funk n Jazz with a carnberry drink…

Cranberry Crush

Cranberry Crush

It being a Sunday, I suggested we go to Church. Thomas decided to take me to one of the oldest churches in the city.

This church was built in 1512!It is also the final resting

LSS Church

LSS Church

priest of one of the kindest and most generous priests, Fr.Joseph.

Darkness had decended upon the cemetary and we stood there looking at the final resting place of man. A stange sense of peace settled into my weary bones. I stood there thinking about all the nameless strangers who helped me in life. How often will I get a chance to thank them? How many times HAVE  I thanked them? Promising myself that I would be greatful for small things in life, we went in search of coffee.

We also got pulled over by cops (He was riding without his helmet and had a cigarette lit up. We were on his motor bike). He talked his way out of it!

Our quest for coffee landed us @ Karma Cafe a quiant little place. Unfortunately they did not have my favorite drink called ‘marijuana’ (Trust me it’s awesome!), so I settled for a regular drink with some amazing Pasta.

Their German Chocolate Surprise was the next best thing to… ahem! I went home laden with food and a brand new T-SHirt that says “Eat Healthy – Stay Fit – Die Anyways”!

Crawling into bed, I began the long night of texting and talking to two of the most important men in my life (BPC and My brother). Once we were all talked out, I cussed Monday and went to sleep.IJ with the virgin... Mojito :P

Little did I know that Monday morning would bring me a pair of pink shoes, afternoon some lovely candles and evening dinner at KFC (Anna Nagar) – Please Oh please try the Sparkling Virgin Mojito!!! Check out Inder on this third refill! I had quite a many too—–>

We were high on chicken and refills of our Mojitos!

Then like all old friends do, we went for a walk (stuffing ourselves with ice creams) and I went to work feeling petty damn good.

That’s the story of how I lost my saturday but found out that I didn’t give a damn  coz with friends like mine, Saturday comes when I want it to!

Fibbin Photographer!

Thomas and I were at breakfast yesterday. The breakfast buffet has in years become a bonding – catching up ritual for us. He happens to be my best-friend and of-late we haven’t been able to spend as much time together as we would’ve liked.

So, we are at breakfast and taking pictures, goofing around. He kept stealing from my plate and I rewarded him by bawling my lungs out over an emotional incident sometime between the breadbasket and the cheese and mushroom omelet. My mood improved steadily as I worked my way through the sausages and by the time I was mulling over a ‘Chateau Gateau’ I was positively beaming!

The incident begins with a lady breaking into our conversation

“Hi! I have the same kind of camera” She says from the other table

We smiled politely at her, she was in her late 50’s, salt and pepper hair and a restrained smile.

“It’s a good Camera” I nodded

“I can take pictures of you once I’m done with my coffee. Give me five minutes”

Before we could protest, she was cleaning her baked beans and baked potatoes with parsley in one swoop.

Thomas and I exchanged a look, shrugged and I went back to the cake and fruits.

“You ready?”

“She’s just being sweet Thomas come on” With his smile confirming his agreement we handed over the camera.

For the next couple of minutes she scouted for a location and then, just when we sported our best smiles…

“You have to look at each other! Come on!”

We did, “Now that’s a sweet couple”

Our smiles froze to the likes of Chandler’s smile

She then proceeded to humiliate us, taking picture after picture… “Stand Here! Go there! You – Chin Up! I have Photoshop! I love photography!”

I could feel Thomas seething “I should knock her the fuck out” through the fake smile

I was thinking Just smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave

When she had her fill of crouching, tip toeing, and half-squatting acrobatic stunts, she gave us back the camera and walked off.

There were 23 photographs. We were recognizable in 3.

Never judge the book by the way it runs it’s mouth! Hmph!

Here is the one that we were recognizable in:

Thomas and I

Thomas and I

Archie… Bounty Hunter Extrodinaire! (part 2)

Img Courtesy:

Img Courtesy:

So this is where I die, bludgeoned to death by a Neanderthal off his meds.

“Ulle irukaanga” He grunted (they are inside)

In all this commotion I failed to notice a man by the door, watching us… Anger rose up inside me, like I was about to throw up lava.

Deepak Debnath, scum of the earth. In high school he had asked me out twice and had been turned down. This resulted in him exploiting his artistic license on bathroom walls, with anonymous paper copies of the same being left on lunch bags and homework books.

Ex-Nothing held out a hand I took it.

“ AJ? I don’t believe it! How’ve you been cupcake?”

“Don’t-call-me-that” I said gritting my teeth.

I’d made fists. He turned to Ex-Nothing “Leash your cat bro”

In a flash ex-nothing lunged for him only to be bodily lifted off the ground by mammoth himself.

“Inga no fighting” (No fighting here) he growled.

“Fucking mammoth” ex-nothing obviously didn’t enjoy being man-handled.

Suppressing a sudden giggle, I waddled in after them and found Silva* on the couch, wasted.

“She wants to stay with me.” Deepak Debnath, putrid dog turd.

“I want to hear her say it” “Then come back tomorrow cupcake”

I looked to ex-nothing for help. He was busy with mammoth’s X-Box. What is it with men and X-Boxes?

After a lot of argument and name calling,(Mammoth keeping Ex-Nothing from maiming Deepak or worse) he stirred Silva*. She sat up on the couch and promptly spewed her last meal. A few minutes and a glass of water later, she came to and sat cross- legged, groggy, swaying…

“Tell them you won’t go home” Deepak Debnath, gutter slime


“Silva*, It’s Joycey, look, I’m gonna take you home to your mother now ok?” “No” She sulked like a five year old

“What? Listen your mother is worried about you. Call her. I’ll let her know you are safe ok?”

“I’m staying with Deepichoo… We will have parties and two dogs and three little girls…” Hacking cough. “We are a couple now.”

She rocked back and forth outlining her dreams… She seemed so vulnerable.

“Err… Boo… your mother is more important, go home tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow” I turned to Deepak, was he sweating? Ex-Nothing and I exchanged an amused look.

“What’s the rush?” Guess Ex-Nothing will get to land a sucker punch after all.

“We’re leaving. Dogs and kids sound lovely” I pulled ex-nothing away and realized he was half-smiling. Obviously enjoying the way things were turning out.

“You can’t leave. Her mom’s worried about her, get ready boo, you have to go home” He shot us a murderous look “can you wait outside?”

“You can’t force her to do anything against her will dude” Ex-Nothing faced him squarely.

“Wait-the-fuck-outside” he was sweating and profusely at that… Debated with himself and added “Please” through pursed lips.

I pulled Ex-Nothing outside and we flopped down on one of the stairs leading up to the terrace. My eyes felt like they were filled with sand and a thousand trolls swing danced in my head.

“My neighbor’s cat is an FTA. Wanna take up the case Ms.Bounty Hunter?”

“Shut up”

Raised voices inside the house. Silva* high pitched and obviously crying… Deepak Debnath, pimple on the… well, I hated him and everything he stood for. MEN!

“Wanna get some dinner once this is over?” “I’m not hungry” He took out his mobile phone and got busy. Watching his ever familiar features I had a moment of what the Japanese call… Satori

There are men in my life that I love and despise with equal fervor.

Arun, who is talented, predictable, irritating, loving. Thomas, mature, silly, respectful, trustworthy, reliable, annoying, the look in his eyes when he picked me up bloody and disoriented in the accident said it all. TK, silly, lazy, affectionate, funny, and sweet, putting up with my phobias, he sets my heart racing conveying more in his “take care” and “you too” than in our entire conversation. Sathish, struggling between two extremities, of having to be human and his call to be super-human. John who is nothing short of a miracle…

Men, whom I respect, men I love, men I’m friends with, men I simply hold in awe…and then there are the Deepaks , freaks of nature, rude, ill-mannered, despicable, perverted, virulent, no respect for self / others…

“How about if we skipped dinner and went to that Donut place by the beach. Two friends talking over a…a…Strawberry Glaze and a Mochachino if I remember right… How about that?”

Damn, “Yeah… How about that?” I met his eyes and smiled.

Archie… Bounty Hunter Extrodinaire! (part 1)

“Chalo me gotto run… catch ya l8r” I told Apar over IM and rushed to grab a jacket and my sneakers. I was wearing a pink and white t-shirt a tan skirt and a frown.
Silv*’s mom had called me 5 mins back to tell me that her daughter hadn’t been home for the past two days and she that she was worried. I’d met Silv* 3 yrs ago in the beginning of my career and we had been on talking terms ever since. Her mother sounded distraught and I wondered if it was a prank. After some trick questions and a lot of high pitched whines and tears from the other end, my resolve broke.
Mrs. S didn’t want to go to the police,”Her father would kill me. He is in Dubai at the moment.”
Oh Boy!

I arrived at their house and could not coax anything out of Aunty S as she sobbed into her expensive looking scarf.
“She went out, to a party and didn’t come back”
I contemplated. I was not a detective or a bounty hunter, I needed help.
Do I call IJ or my friend in Bengaluru? IJ was eternally busy and I did not want to call my bengaluru friend and upset his weekend. They’d probably just ask me not to be a damn sissy.

I shuffled behind Aunty S to the kitchen and accepted a wedge of her famous spice cake… Her kitchen smelled of potpourri…Mulberry? And then it hit me. Time to go flower power!
I called Gaby*(Perfect pseudonym, given her supernatural ability to gab and gossip). “Hey Gab, It’s AJ, how you been girl?”
“OMG I heard that you were going out with someone, who is he?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about”
“Oh come on you were spotted at dinner”
“He is a friend.I ran into Silv’s mom today” How the hell!
“Oh, so on a scale of one to ten, how will you rate your level of romantic interest in your friend?” Don’t give up easy do you?
“Who? and have you caught up with Silv lately? It’s been so long, I was wondering…”
“I wouldn’t been seen dead with that bitch, she screwed my cousin over…Last I heard she was shacking with that boxer dude who hangs out with your ex-interest. That slut, whoring all around town”
“He is my ex-nothing” Hell, she probably remembered how many chipped nails I had in 6th grade…“hey I gotto go, my dog’s peeing on the carpet”
“You don’t have a dog or a fucking carpet”
She was a ‘gorgeous potty-mouth’ according to my friend Puny Todd.

 I  put on my game face called my ex-nothing. After a few pleasantries, I told him about the situation and he offered to take to me to meet the ‘boxer dude’. “If we are done early, we’ll get some dinner” he added.
Tackle that later, sigh.
Mascara, some lip gloss, Hugoboss ‘deep red’, not that it helped. I was dressed like a bum off the street and I was off to meet a stranger with an alleged ‘ex’.’Dressed to kill’ said a skinny half naked woman from Silv’s bedroom wall. More like dressed to repel, I muttered to myself.

Mr. Ex-Nothing called me from across the street and I was pleasantly surprised to see my ride. A black Skoda withfancy wheels polished to a twinkle, I half expected him to get out wearing a Suit shirt and dress pants with his tie askew.Loose fitting jeans, a muscle t-shirt under a carelessly thrown shirt and expensive looking shoes. Puma.

I looked up at the sky and cursed.

“So who is this boxer-dude? and if you say anything about the skirt, I’m calling a cab”
“What about if I say something about your legs”
“I’ll scratch the leather”
“His name is Mickey*, he boxes for the Southern Railway team. And it was going to be a compliment” I adjusted the seat threw my bag in the back seat.
“Are you kidding me? They are all goons and I think I can have cab here in 15 minutes and I carry a sharp as hell nail filer”
“Mickey’s chicken shit, scared of the cops.” He looked me over,leaned over to adjust the ac flap,(Steered well away from me)
“You’ve changed your perfume”smiled and put the car in gear.
I stared dead ahead. Game Face. “And my shampoo”. Ex-nothing alright!

We reached a small one story house in a posh locale. We parked out front and walked up to the gate.”Beware of Dogs” said the sign. Ex-Nothing seemed oblivious to it and pushed the gate open.
“If I get bitten am running a key across  the hood of your…”
This was not a dog; it was a bloody bull charging us from the shadows. I was knocked flat on my ass before I could scream and there was a slob fest.  One minute I was elated about not being torn to shreds the next minute I was mortified.
“Poo breath” I cursed and sat up making sure my skirt was in place.
A chuckle “Not fair, you must be the only girl I know who falls without her skirt riding high”
“Eat shit and die”

A shadow loomed over me. “yenna vaenum?” (What do you want?)
I looked up to see a mountain of muscle  towering over me, not the least bit happy, with a cane in hand. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw my knight in shining armor back up a few steps. It didn’t help that I was sitting on the ground, when he moved closer I had to look up and he was just endless,I think I cricked my neck.
So this is where I die, bludgeoned to death by a Neanderthal off his meds.

(To be Contd on request…)

Puny Todd

Puny Todd* hated smiling and I did my best to avoid him.

He is always in between jobs or “am-just-about-to quit” phases that render him a depressed twit, too pissed with the world to offer a smile.

It’s not like people don’t call him a vacant-eyed looser beyond his back. But his friends always stick up for him. I was neither.

Now here he was, on a hot April afternoon, puny as ever, wearing baggy jeans and an oversized jacket.

“Hey I saw you from across the street. How are you?”

“What’s up Puny Todd. You look… well”

He huffed and he puffed “Yeah… you smell nice”

“Errr… thanks”

“You want to get out of the sun?”


Puny Todd gnawed along the edge of the bone and inspected the chunk of meat that was left. He held it up and proclaimed “This is good stuff” and proceeded to masticate, his cheeks straining with the effort.

“Mmm” I smiled downing my Soda.

“Puny Todd” I ventured, “Why do people find you irritating?”

“Slurrrrrp” His ice cream soda vanished.

“Ethos… they are intimidated by me”


“Why do men find you attractive Jo Gurl?” (Why does he always call me that)

“They don’t”

“You are humble. If you were socially ambient, they would find you intimidating. See what I mean?” (Socially what?)


“Not that I make value judgments of course.”


“Are you gonna finish your soda?”

Shaking head “mmhmmm”

“Slurrrrrp, thanks, you were always nice to me Jo m’ gurl”

Was that a smile? It looked like gas.

“Ethos… looks like the bastards got to me too Puny Todd!”

Whatever that meant.

*(Puny Todd’s name has been changed to help many of my non-blogging friends identify him. Most of us have forgotten his real name)