Well…there is no tale. The eggs got smashed, beat up, had their wounds salted…and were finally cooked on a hot pan. They end up on a plate in front of me a while later.
Kind of sounds similar to many of those victims of the great Indian vigilante justice system, save for the fact that I don’t get to gobble them up!
Note to self: Stop being a disgusting pig thinking about devouring humans.
On the same note, I believe that I am justified in being so. After all, men are pigs, aren’t they. You can find us all over the streets, ogling at any woman who is of an age group that they are interested in, some going to the extent of even teasing them and some extremists even force themselves on these poor, helpless women.
Pigs!!
Although this brings me to my second theory, at proving why men are better managers than women are. Here goes. One of the most common work-place related euphimisms is that haggling with your manager for a higher pay is like wrestling with a pig in the mud! After a while you realise that you are all dirty, and the pig is enjoying it. Combine this with the universal “MAP-Men Are Pigs” theorem that most women will so gladly preach, we can deduce that men are better managers than women.
I can already hear chants of “Chauvinist Pig” from the female readers…but ladies, this does nothing more but to prove my point.
Enough bacon for the day…let me divert my attention to my scrambled eggs, and the most interesting bit of news that is doing its rounds these day….the amazing race for the next president of India.
I will not go into the plethora of allegations and counter-allegations that are being thrown around. What I’ll rather do is ask a simple looking question: Is this how India, or rather Indians, would want to get their first woman president? Even though the President is more of glorified rubber stamp in India, if not anything else, being one is the dream of most retired politicans who are in the fading stages of their lives, as well as their political careers.
Most Indians are in favour of the current president, Mr.A.P.J Abdul Kalam, getting a second term. The man himself has expressed his unwillingness for the same, and his reasons can be well understood. The man has had enough of being a rubber stamp, and being forced to sign on bills like the reservation bill that he is so much against in principle wouldn’t have gone down too well with him. But it doesn’t matter now, as two candidates for the post are already covered in mud…now we can’t even tell one from another.
Already half way through the eggs, and by now wondering what they were cooked in, I turn the newspaper. Only to see the news of a DIG being hunted down for trying to molest two women aboard a moving train. These pigs, I tell you….
Another fifteen flips later, the newspaper comes to an end. And most of the stories are either about terrorists, al-quaeda, or bipasha’s attempt at kissing Ronaldo. Or was it Ronaldo’s attempt? Never mind, I am least bothered. John will be. A lot.
24 pages of utter rubbish. That’s what newspapers have come to. Though I don’t think its fair to blame it on the newspapers. After all, they’ll publish anything that people want to read…and most of it is utter rubbish. This is one of the magic tricks of a democracy, what the majority wants is usually rubbish. But this topic is for another day.
If you have read through this plate of scrambled eggs….I would like you to read my friend Bhavna’s blog for this recent post and restore your sanity.
Though this time around, I will not put up a post on top of hers. No point in trying to make some points, I guess.
Oh…and today is Friday the 13th…again. For the superstitious, I will suggest you head home straight after work, and find a bed to sleep in.
For the deviliously inclined, like me, just relax…its another day for us. Unless you know one of those folks who has just scrambled under a blanket for the fear of people like us. If you do, justify their fears. Let the legend of Friday the 13th live…..whooooooohahahahahaha
Now I must spend the rest of my time trying to figure out what I am going to do for the rest of the weekend, other than sleeping, and scrambling more eggs.
So while I yaaaaawwwwwnnnnnnn away to glory in front of a mailbox full of work, go on, break a couple of eggs, scramble them and have fun. Oh, and if you happen to be a veggie who detests at the thought of breaking eggs, let alone eating them, well…find something else to break. Just stay away from my head…I will not let you break it!
Adios