tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-322258932024-03-07T22:17:09.011-08:00In a spot of botha"There to fore i ask thee....
To pee or not to pee?
For slack is the bladder..."
Lord Micturat-a-lot (1654-2006 and going)Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-85051434052923231572011-07-12T11:11:00.000-07:002011-07-12T11:24:35.794-07:00New post! Of the year 2011. I just saw a nice video on TED where the guy says it really helps him to have a diary. I think I shall keep one now. My memory isn't as good as I touted it to be. And there are some extraneous reasons why it really isn't the sharpest; those who know me, probably know what I am talking about ;) <div><br /></div><div>So today, 12 July, during this 3 month vacation from Neuroscience, I have been doing a lot of creative stuff. Stuff. Just stuff. </div><div>Today I met Gideon, Purav, Eduard Leonard Fanthome (I love pronouncing his name), Kimberly Melissa Ann Roga (another nice name) and Sukhi, who is mostly <i>sukhi</i>. I had fun today to say the least. Vijaynagar is awesome; hot but awesome, dirty and fascinating. The people, their daily activities, the amalgamated buildings with a will-work-for-the-time-being infrastructure, everything is cool. Thats why we were filming something which turned out to be crap, but funny crap indeed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am hoping for more such sessions to come. I need a camera of my own soon, I really want to film.</div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-65008056552458609272010-06-09T15:17:00.000-07:002010-06-09T15:20:44.232-07:00I... dont know what i'm doing here again.. in 2010.<div><br /></div><div>I'm in Germany by the way and on friday i turn 24.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm studying neuroscience. I read this blog now after more than two years... its strange reading something i wrote about my days from university. Yes, old self, for some reason i call it university now.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was good to read about myself. I've changed a little. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I might come by here again... it just seems creepy for some reason. Like walked into someone else's dead journal.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>god.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>See u and take care of yourself.</div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-37737445079992640382007-06-06T12:18:00.000-07:002007-06-06T12:34:27.456-07:00Oh well...<br /><br />end of the semester. Hmmm. It feeeeels like the end of college.<br /><br /><br /><br />It isnt. Not for me anyway. But, for these two, my closest buddies........its over. And its hard on moi. I'm a man who doesnt open up properly. Now i never will.<br /><br /><br /><br />Ishita. Remember Supersonic? "I knew a girl called Elsa, she's into Alka Seltzer...."<br /><br />Or how about I am the walrus. Ur the eggman?<br /><br /><p>I loooowed having those weird, long, endless conversations. Positively adored the fights. Had too much fun man. Not fair man. Why should you have to leave before me ?</p><br /><p></p><br /><p>Moe.Mohu.Anuraag.</p><br /><p>Yaar, mein ki kahan? hun mere naal Sheela de kadvi chaa kon piyuga? Te mere naal kmc greens te chadhaooga kon? Te menu kudiyon de pichhe lagaooga kon?<br />Tun kaanu chala gaya yaar....hun bahut yaad aundi hai teri pravaa!!</p><br /><p>You two never forget the good times okay??! Never!</p><br /><p>Neither will i. ;-)</p>WOOOOHOOO!!!!!!!!!! forever.Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-68125778618974867152007-03-02T12:16:00.000-08:002007-03-02T13:16:19.776-08:00I should apologise for not blogging.<br /><br /><br /><br />Bah! why should i? Its my bloody blog anyway. I would virtually piss on it if i could. Maybe there's an algo to develop that visual....hmm...<br /><br />Thats been the whole problem really.....Algo's! I love-and-dont-really-hate them. They've been my wife, mistress and nanny for quite a while now. And i'm not talking about the 'i like to make neat flowcharts..lol!' algo's either. These are about complex math. So you cant really tell what your solving in the end.<br /><br /><br />But its all good.<br /><br />:-)<br /><br />Wierd ass sem to go with it. Too busy! Can you even imagine an average MITian being busy??<br />OF course you can. Why, we could be busy doing nothing right? But no! They have to make things tiring and laborious. Getting fuckin lab print-outs is a pain in the transverse colon. Yeah, thats how bad it is.<br /><br />A few things i've observed after coming back:<br /><br />1. Sheela chai is getting worse. If thats possible of course. But, whatever....sheela is sheela. The place my brain chooses to unwind in. Eating stale vada-sambar, drinking afore mentioned tea, enjoying Sundar Anna's antics (By Jove, the man deserves a role in a movie....kundu movie obviously maccha!).....ah! thats the life...<br /><br /><br />2. I somehow dont like drinking anymore.<br /><br />Ans:<br /><br />I cant explain it. Its part of my new save-my-liver-save-myself fitness regimen.<br /><br /><br />Nah...dont care two hoots about my liver. But, this no-alcohol (alright fine....very little alcohol), tea-totaller behavior is very new to me. Leaves people <strong>flabbergasted</strong>. (GRE wordlists.....under 'G' )<br /><br /><br />3.The foodcourt is an amazing place.<br /><br />Yes sir, that first floor is the best first floor in the Udupi district! Its the only place to brushen up your latent ornithology skills. A lot of fun indeed. It just never siezes to amaze! The natural beauty, the wonderful smell of food i cant afford, the BIG SCREEN T.V, the air conditioning, the wild, untamed natural beauty........well you get the picture. They come in green tops with white, tight lowers. Aye Prashanth, next KMC class okay?! ;-)<br /><br /><br />4. The NEW play:<br /><br />Its cool. Its not a comedy. And its freaaaakin haaaaard!!!<br />Im supposed to be all secretive about it so i wont disclose the name of the play untill told to do so. YEAH FINE!!<br /><br />One word. Td-ing!<br /><br /><br />5. Moha's-the blog:<br /><br />I like it. Its bold. And its full of delayed, but intensified, teenage angst.<br />As well as a very humorous and highly informative description of the wonderful punjabi culture through the eyes of a typical punjabi male. So all you snooty art-lit types......piss off if it hurts your sentiments.<br /><br /><br />6.My heart goes POP!<br /><br />Yes, its from that soppy chick flick Music and Lyrics. Hugh Grant is a funny guy. And he's a bit high on the estrogen.<br />I wrote that because i too am going POP!, WHIZZ! and BANG! Every other day...every other minute really. Because of my frequent visits to place in question in point 3. Pay attention!<br /><br />I hope i stay like this for a long time. Single and unattractive. But, at the same time free to gawk and stare at the 'kudiyan' because im not much of a threat to their BIG boyfriends. (Please dont hurt me!)<br /><br /><br /><br />7. Two obsessions:<br /><br />a)Scooby doo....the gaming parlour! OOOOOSSSuuuu!<br />b)Heroes......i love Hiro and Ando! the whole damn thing should be about them.<br /><br /><br />So untill next time.<br />I bid piss-well. I mean farewell.<br /><br />Tata! :-)Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-53533922583019128852006-12-29T10:18:00.000-08:002008-12-10T12:37:18.975-08:00<span style="font-family:georgia;">Ah. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Finally</span>.</span><br /><br />So its been long. Havent had the time really....blogging is the sort of thing i do when i'm totally jobless. And i'm totally utterly jobless only in Manipal.<br /><br />So what to write about?<br /><br />Things i've done in the past two weeks (some of it really interesting.....well to me atleast)<br /><br />1. My project!<br />To tell you the truth i consider my semester in manipal a picnic compared to this. As my burnt brothers from the Bronx would say "This the shiiiiit !!" . Uh huh.<br />Yup this is the shit. IIT delhi. Friggin huge! (first reaction), daunting, cold......well its winter so....er....yeah.<br /><br />Got lost tryin to find the department. When i found the prof's chamber it was kinda unimpressive. One little cubicle with no heater, no lab equipment, workbench or tools. Just a comp.........huh.<br />Anyhow, got my project sorted out. Its pretty cool. So i've spent the last two weeks (barring two holidays) drinking coffee and tea and soldering this tiny chip to a PCB. Its fun really......and nothing goes better with espresso than solder vapours.......mmmm....trust me.<br /><br />Anyway the prof's a real nice guy and a real brain too. IIT Kharagpur and Stanford so you can imagine. Helps me out a lot with my circuit and clears doubts about the chip. Its a good team effort! something that my pathetic college will never put in.........waste.<br /><br />2. Bus-Auto-walk:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RZVtSTd8fuI/AAAAAAAAAA8/xng6B5plK6Q/s1600-h/india0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RZVtSTd8fuI/AAAAAAAAAA8/xng6B5plK6Q/s320/india0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014033921377861346" border="0" /></a><br />It takes me just too friggin long to get to the campus. 2.5 hrs each way!! But the buses are nice. Uncomfortable, yes, but you do get time alone to yourself to think stuff over. Not just the project. Other stuff. Like what the other people in the bus must be doing at their offices. Most of them go to Nehru Place. I suppose they're in one of those small but profitable businesses and trading organizations. Hmmmm.........boring work to me but hey its a living i guess.<br /><br />Buses are nice. Dirty, yes, but you get to be part of the common man's chariot. And what a fine chariot it is. I actually feel a lot safer in a bus than in a car. Go Diesel its ya birthday, we gonna party cause its ya birthday....Go Go Go Go.....umm......er........heh.<br /><br />Also, its cheap!! heh heh.<br /><br />"Mayur Vihar, Noida Mod, Nizamuddin, Kale Khan, Maharani Baag, Kalka Ji, Nehru Place, NEHRU PLACE, N E H R U P L A C E!!!!!!!"<br /><br />Chugga chugga chugga.....pffffish.<br /><br /><br />3. Many meetings:<br /><br />I was very sad on the train coming here. Basically because Ishita and Moha where going away next sem and i was alone on the train. More for ishita. Well i wont go into that....<br /><br />Anyhow i met Mohu first at the station. He took his damned heavy PC. But it was good to see a friendly face on arrival.<br /><br />I met Ishita, Jhelum and Ara on the 18th. Pretty soon by my standards, but then i wanted to anyway. And because i wouldnt be able to meet jhelum for a long time after that. They shopped at Janpath. I got dragged along into Janpath. Thank god for Kaustubh Mittal. Comic relief.<br /><br />Then i met up with some old buddies and headed off to the HT Youth Nexus. It was at The DU Polo Grounds. Right.<br /><br />None of us knew where North Campus was, forget the damn Polo grounds. We went off on a tangent to the outer ring road (according to my IITian friend Sagar.....gee wiz). Soon we were on the GT road on our way to Chandigarh.<br />After frantic calls to DU organizers, we found are way to the friggin Polo grounds and guess what!....apart from us, there were like 50 people there.<br /><br />But the show must go on! And it did. Horribly chugging its way through the Western Vocals and the college rock competition exactly like the DTC bus i had taken on may back from the campus the day before. Except the latter didnt have Himes Ji farting in your face through 1000 watt amps.<br /><br />After a titillating fashion contest (i've always wanted to use that word hehe) we buggered off to our respective camps, fighting our way through traffic.<br /><br />Apart from that i met up with Mohu and Prerna at CP. Had Bindal's tea. Once, twice, three times. Then roamed around CP in a circular fashion. Well, i suppose thats because CP is circular.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RZVsezd8frI/AAAAAAAAAAk/RvO4dwi-EHo/s1600-h/delhi05.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RZVsezd8frI/AAAAAAAAAAk/RvO4dwi-EHo/s320/delhi05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014033036614598322" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RZVs8Td8ftI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zrgRU1fuqew/s1600-h/ncr.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RZVs8Td8ftI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zrgRU1fuqew/s320/ncr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014033543420739282" border="0" /></a><br />And today i met up with Ishita and roomie Keshav for some good old fashioned bakchodi. Fun, fun.<br /><br /><br /><br />4. Madden NFL and american football:<br /><br />After playing the video game i am thoroughly convinced that there is sufficient reason for the Americans to like this brutal game.<br /><br />Its actualy a game built solely on strategy.<br />The game is more like winning mini battles to finally win the war, as is quite evident from the overall look of the game.<br /><br />Go Patriots!! Woohoo! Gimme a P, Gimme an A, Gimme a.........uh.....mm...yeah sorry.<br /><br /><br />5. And so it shall be:<br /><br />Well God is very quick these days.<br />Mohu goes through the trouble of having to say an emotionaly laden goodbye. Ditto for Ishita.<br /><br />Only to find out that he cant do his project here because of new anti-database rules in the CSE dept. Haha...now he's gonna get himself a decent enough project to complete in 4 months time. Or 4 weeks time and relax the rest of the way.<br /><br />Ditto for Ishita. Well, almost. And Ara.<br />I am happy i say :-)<br /><br />Well thats all for now folks. More updates will come when Lord Micturat-a-lot can control his bladder. Buhbye.Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-50091848260039543362006-12-07T09:32:00.000-08:002008-12-10T12:37:19.433-08:00<span style="font-weight: bold;">Here's a look at the semester gone by.</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RXhelfzkGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Jj3vNO4RVEM/s1600-h/We_Have_High_Hopes_by_smashmethod.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RXhelfzkGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Jj3vNO4RVEM/s320/We_Have_High_Hopes_by_smashmethod.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005854984108251746" border="0" /></a><br />I arrived on the 23rd of July. Very enthusiastic, a little afraid. I was never in awe of 3rd year or how tough my seniors made it sound. Never really gave a F.<br />Its just that i was scared of committing to too many things. It was like looking out of your window to find a notepad and a pen waiting for you to start work. This, lying on top of a four storey pile of imaginary, yet important, study material.<br /><br />But, there was never really a doubt on committing to Dramanon. I love acting, but i love the people who i work with even more.<br /><br />Well anyhow we started of the practice sessions around mid-August. Cool auditions. Found some gems. Polished others. Akanksha turned out to be an uncut diamond. Rare brilliance. Also, her work ethic is amazing and very enviable.<br /><br />I got a relatively small role this time. It wasnt something incredible like any of the one's before. It was infact...very boring. I had to come up with something very outrageous to make it even remotely funny. I chose Gay. I chose right. Well, almost.<br /><br />(Music i was listening too: Thievery Corporation, Floyd, Dj Tiesto)<br /><br />New subjects, new and interesting ways to get a headache. Microprocessors this time. For all the horror stories i'd heard, it didnt turn out to be much. I loved the programming bit. Micro lab was one of those rare occasions when i cold actually concentrate enough to solve something. I enjoyed every moment of quiet desperation and sudden enlightenment.<br /><br />KMC was as harrowing as ever. New subjects which just seemed like pages out of a manual for lab instruments. They dont know what to teach us, we dont know what to learn. Lets get together and break our heads on the wall.<br /><br />Also, i had to go to the Cancer hospital for some lectures. It made me very sad. I hated my class for walking around in there shouting at the top of their voices. Stupid females. Have some freakin respect? No. Ever bother to think of the poor people there? Say a prayer perhaps? No.<br /><br />I approached my ex-HOD for projects. He gave me two. One under my teacher. Her doctoral thesis. She got married so everything went to Pluto. I studied stuff i already new becuase she'd asked me too. I asked her about her progress. She looked nervous, so i dropped it. Sad college.<br /><br />(Music: Blackfield, Porcupine tree....masterclass)<br /><br />First sessionals. Hard to get through. Harder to get marks. Partied even harder! Ishita's birthday was around that time. Thank God she reads books.<br /><br />Practice went on as usual. Sometimes frustrating, sometimes inspiring (Bhops and the grass effect).<br />October 2. Mangy show. God how i despise that place. Good party though. Dhruv should've been there.<br /><br />October 8. THE show. Here, at home. Where everyone was our age. Where inhibitions were lost; dialogues forgotten, but new one's, even funnier, conjured! Hat tricks or wat? Whole lotta fun and a whole lotta laughter. Sharanya, Satya and Rao were there. Missed Ritu and the Powerpuff. Missed Ritu more :-(<br /><br />Secunda la sessionaaal. A cake walk. Only four papers!!!<br /><br />(Music: Bob Marley and the Wailers)<br /><br />Diwali time. Hmmmm.....confusion begins. Clarity refuses to marry me.<br /><br />Scooby doo beckoned, i answered. Again and again and again and again.....<br />Video games + footie with Ajit....two more things that let me forget about my brain. Joga Bonito!<br /><br />I wish it could have been Ole Ole Ole forever. I wish i could have been Stone Man again. Not to be.<br /><br /><br />After is no event. Maddenings happenings.<br /><br />Third sessional. Hmmmmm'ed my way through it. Bloody Orkut bloody.<br /><br />Farewell! Adieu my lovely seniors. Jhelum i will miss you like hell. Ara, i'll remember the good times, i will, i will.<br />Mohu.....you know what i'll say. WaheGuru ji da khalsa, WaheGuru ji di fateh....:-p<br /><br />Confusings causings serial port detonations in nuclie of frontal lobe. HypoF***inthalamus going tralalalala....<br />End sems start.<br />Rao and company back. Nice, nice.<br /><br />Breathing easy, starting to get back to the way i was....And........done! yipeee!<br /><br />(Music: Radiohead. Bob fighting for space. Seldom winning any.)<br /><br />Now i am here. Typing. End sems remaining= 2. Easy does it. Dont go kaboom.<br /><br />So all in all,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I have achieved</span> 0, <span style="font-weight: bold;">nil</span>, zilch this <span style="font-weight: bold;">semester</span>.<br /><br />I really should start giving a F!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RXhgVvzkGnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/W09FB7aIUOc/s1600-h/62549.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pKogEthqSqU/RXhgVvzkGnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/W09FB7aIUOc/s320/62549.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005856912548567666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Ha haha haha....this is soo cool.....Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-88799870888607204682006-11-30T01:28:00.001-08:002006-11-30T01:28:53.792-08:00MS Ipod Parody<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0"><tr><td colspan="2"><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=36099539665548298&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed></td></tr><tr></tr><tr><td>What happens if Microsoft had designed the Ipod?<br /> </td></tr></table>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-58990039711263028872006-11-26T09:46:00.000-08:002006-11-26T09:51:07.672-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/1600/856596/UemGje.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/320/579052/UemGje.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/1600/38984/969xRD.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/320/723468/969xRD.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This is for girls to go awwww to.<br />Please comment and tell me how big your awww was (depending on how long you stretched it) for each of these pics.<br />I'm doing a survey.<br />(Guys are well...er....welcome)Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-3922946735199450482006-11-24T22:35:00.000-08:002006-11-25T00:06:50.416-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/1600/806649/liam%20gallagher.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/400/460559/liam%20gallagher.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />People are so much more affectionate when they're high. Its crazy.<br /><br />"I was looking for some action<br />but all i found was cigarettes and alcohol."<br />Liam GallagherTathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-15190936110006700262006-11-23T22:55:00.000-08:002006-11-25T10:52:01.098-08:00<span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;font-size:100%;"> <span style=";font-family:georgia;" >the more that i struggle<br />the further i get in trouble<br />the more i erase you<br />the more you appear<br />any other time<br />any other time<br />please<br />not now</span></span><p style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">never ever never<br />ever never ever<br />pick up the phone</span></p><p style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">calm down<br />take three of these<br />with a glass of water<br />shut up</span></p><p style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">oh no it doesn't<br />oh yes it does<br />you should be with me<br />we should be together<br />no we shouldn't<br />no<br />we shouldn't</span></p><p style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">oh dear how sad<br />never mind<br />oh dear how sad<br />never mind</span></p><p style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">pass it round<br />down is the new up</span></p><p style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></p><p style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">By Thom Yorke (unpublished work)</span></p><p face="georgia"><span style="font-size:100%;">I dont plagiarise. :-p<br /></span></p><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-27879901722250071782006-11-23T22:25:00.000-08:002006-11-23T22:40:32.712-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/1600/983574/full6.php.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/320/388418/full6.php.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Stanley Donwood's a freakin genius.<br /><br />Love this one.<br />I've felt like a dead leaf quite often.<br /><br /><br /><br />Still. It feels warm, possibly welcoming.Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1163918092725125312006-11-18T22:32:00.000-08:002006-11-18T22:34:52.740-08:00<div style="text-align: center;" class="showit" id="articleimg1"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Family asked Spears to go for divorce </span></div> <div class="hideit" id="articleimg2"> </div> <div class="hideit" id="articleimg3"> </div> <div class="hideit" id="articleimg4"> </div> <div class="articletitle"><div style="text-align: center;"> </div> </div> <p><br /></p><p> Friday, November 17, 2006</p> <p> <b>Source: IANS<br /> Image Source: AP</b> </p> <p style="margin-top: 3px;">The family of pop superstar <a href="http://search.msn.co.in/results.aspx?q=Britney+Spears+&mkt=en-IN&form=QBRE&go.x=14&go.y=2"><strong>Britney Spears</strong> </a>intervened and urged Spears to divorce her husband <a href="http://search.msn.co.in/results.aspx?q=Kevin+Federline&mkt=en-IN&form=QBRE&go.x=14&go.y=4"><strong>Kevin Federline</strong></a>.<br /></p><div id="ArticleText1" class="showit"><p><br /></p> <p>Contactmusic.com reports that Spears and Federline got into an intense and ugly argument at Federline's new album's launch party, the row ending with Spears in tears. </p> <p><br />A source says: "She came to support him and he treated her like s**t." The next day Spears' family came together and convinced her to end the relationship. The source added: "Kevin was never popular with anyone around Britney. She finally wised up."</p> <div class="showit" id="articleimg1"> <a id="ctl00_MSNCMSMasterContent1_ArticlePresentation_ArticleImage1" class="leftimg" target="_blank"><img src="http://content.msn.co.in/NR/rdonlyres/A99576A7-B6AB-4D5B-8A60-C4C7683ABE5C/61288/BritneySpears_ap17150.jpg" style="border-width: 0px;" /></a> </div> <div class="hideit" id="articleimg2"> </div> <div class="hideit" id="articleimg3"> </div> <div class="hideit" id="articleimg4"> </div><br /><p><br /> </p> </div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1163755783773751522006-11-17T00:07:00.000-08:002006-11-17T01:36:28.626-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">Creative writing competition.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Notice:<br /><br />This is to inform all you lazy buggers that i shall be holding a creative writing competition in the class on the 13th of dec. The essay or poem has to be no less than one hundred and fifty words.<br />Participation is compulsory. I'm giving assignment marks based on this.<br />The competition will be in English, since i teach you English.<br /><br />Time allotted : 1 hr(s). A lot more if you make too many grammatical errors because i'm not bothering to correct them. You will have to.<br /><br />(Signed)<br />Mrs. Sood.<br /><br /><br /><br />This was put up on my class notice board on the 10th of dec., one week before the pre-boards. Not that anybody really gave a rats behind about the pre-boards, but this creative thing was scary. The mere thought of sitting down in front of that great big moth of an English teacher Sood was beyond horrifying, but writing something right out of your head is too hard for us simple hindi speking peeples.<br /><br />Well we really didnt have a choice now did we? So we hauled ourselves into class and sat down still wondering about what abysmal topic she would come up with for her personal viewing pleasure.<br /><br />And so as i was borrowing a pen from my mate, El Soodo came along to my desk and plopped a sheet of paper on it. When i saw the topic i was...well.....confused at first...and then really confused.<br /><br />It said (in such horrible handwriting that i could have mistaken it for tiny ants......figures) :<br /><br />Q. Write about "The Good Old days" in not less than 200 words.<br /><br /><br /><br />The good old days?.....The good OLD days??!<br /><br />What was i supposed to write? Huh? huh? I imagined myself going upto the teacher and asking her "Hey is this your idea of a joke? I dont have dentures OR a hip replacement. I'm not a pensioner! The good OLD days? Why dont i write about my grandchildren while i'm at it?"<br /><br />Rehkhfsk......thats the first thing i wrote in my attempt to make some sense. Oh god this was brilliant! The girls seemed to have compiled a report on the good old days in their mushroomed heads and were scribbling away with rare abandon. I took a peek at one, hoping to cheat my way out of this rut. She'd used words like 'Procrastination', which i thought was a really disgusting form of castration, and 'Quondam' which i believed was condom, misspelt.<br /><br />I was getting restless. It was upto me and my weak English to put something readable together. I took one final look around for some form of inspiration. I found none. Just me buddy laughing at his sheet of paper. I asked him what the joke was. He handed me his paper, still guffawing like a donkey.<br /><br />When i read his "essay" i couldnt help but laugh. It said "In the gud old days, there waz very little work done when light was gone because of monsoon rain. So my mother always sent me to bazaar to buy candles. I took umbrella to avoid to get wet. Then i bought candles and came back. The end."<br /><br />Le magnifique. It was all very clear now. I took the Add Gel Zero gravity pen in my right hand and began. I stopped only after the bell rang.<br /><br />To my shock and wonder and awe and other synonyms for amazement, i'd won the third prize!<br />My mother was very proud. My English teacher hit a car and died. Well, not really. She was shocked too.<br /><br />My friends and relatives asked me how i managed to do that. I told them i wrote about an old man who sat on his porch smoking his pipe all day, reciting fantastic events about the World War II and how he single handedly fought through a German Panzer division and killed every one of the Krauts and used the tanks to drive the injured British back to Nice where they were stationed. I guess i was really convincing because my friends believed that it was my grandpa i wrote about. Well, i might have led them on a bit because i used to boast about my great grandfather having fought for the British in the colonial wars. I told them they named a city in Rwanda after my great grand-daddy.<br /><br />So after this incident i have been confident about my powers over the English language. Of course i still dont compare such greats as Yeats, Shelley, Lord Byron, the Bard and Ishita Ghosh with my lowly self.<br /><br />I leave you with a little thing that one of my college friends wrote at a creative writing competition at school. We'll call him M_ for now. His topic was something about overcoming language barriers and reaching out. He has left an indelible impression upon my psyche, as i'm sure many others, with his deep, thought provoking words.<br /><br />"One dog met another on the street:<br />Woof woof woof, ruff ruff<br />woof woof woof.<br /><br />Other dog: Woof woof, bark bark bark<br />Ruff, woof, bark.<br /><br />Pack of dogs (in harmony):<br />Woof woof woof woof,<br />Ow ow ow ow, yipe.<br /><br />And so, man strives to break barriers. But, some barriers are not meant to be broken.<br />Thank you."<br /><br />Kudos M_ !<br /></div></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1163629824164798382006-11-15T14:27:00.000-08:002006-11-15T14:30:24.166-08:00Note:<br /><br />A lot of people write after or while listening to music. Music influences the written word. Period.<br />They dont wanna accept it, but they do. Subconsciously.<br /><br />I've accepted it a long time ago.Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1163629037269756302006-11-15T13:50:00.000-08:002006-11-15T14:17:17.296-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I Dont know</span>.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">So frustratingly simple. I dont know. I dont know why.<br />I do a lot of quirky things. I'm just gonna write about them. Cause its my blog.<br /><br />I talk when i write. I also write the way i talk.<br />"So now that we're acquainted, i'm gonna write my blog like this."<br /><br />"I talk to myself when i walk on the road, in various accents. I do this so i can sound like i'm talking to two or three of me, all of us with different points of view on the same subject (cause we sound and act differently) but in the end we all agree on what i say."<br /><br />"I need counseling. Constantly. But, i dont tell anyone. I call my heroes. This includes a man called Paul who works really hard, the Arsenal football team which looks over me because their poster is on the wall right above my head and Bob Marley who walks next to me constantly messing with his dreadlocks and sayin 'You gonna be a'ite maan, keep your faith.' Then i kick a stone and say yeah..."<br /><br />"When i listen to a song, i listen intently for very specific notes. I have no knowledge of musical scales or chords or suchlike. But i like the little, hidden things in a song, like a note here or a piano piece there or jus the violin in the background. I even listen to noise."<br /><br />"I like loose shirts."<br /><br />"I like being thin and lanky."<br /><br />"I imagine myself floating outside my window sometimes."<br /><br />"I like the glow of a street light through a tree from far off."<br /><br />"Dont mess with my head. It plans everything out. I'm lost without my plan."<br /><br />"I hate wasting time. But i waste time just by thinking about not wasting time. I hate thinking that too. Its a big spiral loop that ends with a fundamental question - 'Where are my slippers?'"<br /><br />"My mouth is always open when i watch a movie."<br /><br />"My mouth is usually open."<br /><br />"I listen to anyone when they tell me anything. And i imagine it happening. So i'm usually lost in thought when people talk to me, which they find rude and/or disturbing. But they dont know i just heard everything they just said. And it puts a smile on my face."<br /><br />"I smile a lot for no reason at all."<br /><br />I dont know why i wrote this blog. I dont know. Dont ask me.<br /><br /><br /></div></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1161585935203765612006-10-22T22:25:00.000-07:002006-10-22T23:45:35.230-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I Want to be.....<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><br />A bird. Or a plane. or a supersonic train!<br /><br /><br />An actor! Pretending on a stage.<br />Being anyone that i wish to be like a wizard or a mage.<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />A dark horse. Through sweltering desert course.<br /></span>Freedom. To mindless running rabbits seldom.<br />But, to horses its a force.<br />For driving madness its a source.<br /><br /><br />A tree. On a hill.<br />Mourning silence. Sitting still.<br />A thousand lives lived. And a thousand more still.<br /><br /><br />Red light. On my wall.<br />Burning red. Deep red. Blood red.<br />Is pain red?<br />Is sin red?<br />I know love is red.<br /><br /><br />A lad. A lot of heart but little wit.<br />Kickin' mud and eatin' grit.<br />Pick a fight, then make a pal.<br />'Pee an eight' or 'Chase a gal'<br /><br />Kill an indian, or shoot a cowboy<br />Yeah.. i'd like to be a little toy.<br /><br /><br /><br />A grain of sand. Yellow earth.<br />Cruel and kind. Of life, no dearth.<br />Nothing holding it back. No God. No king.<br />Neither fire nor water nor wind.<br /><br /><br />A clown. Jumpin Jack Flash.<br />Selling jokes. Buying laughs. Taking trash.<br />Spreading happiness, hiding sorrow.<br />He wont cry. He'll wake up with a smile tomorrow.<br /><br /><br /><br />Hmmm....<br />I want to be......<br />I want to be my father's son.<br />My mother's cuddle<br />My brother's back<br />My sister's pillow.<br /><br />And one day, my love's heart.<br /><br /><br />I want to be me. :-p<br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1160908229451305582006-10-15T03:05:00.000-07:002006-11-24T22:42:03.820-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/1600/148022/108982935_057c10269b_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6757/3933/320/65784/108982935_057c10269b_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I wanted to do this for a long time. Finally got the chance.<br /><br />I love Bob Marley. The man captivates me.<br /><br />Born in poverty and brought up in poverty. Not many people in the world can claim to have accomplished so much in their life when the means to do so are just a sweet dream on a warm starry night.<br /><br />I was watching this documentary about him and his music on the History channel. To tell you the truth, most of his initial appeal lay in his life style.<br />Simple, drugged and mostly trippy.<br /><br />But go past the cool dreadlocks, the numerous drugs and his liberal views on the most taboo subjects in the world and you'll find a gem of a person. I mean for a man who lived on almost nothing most of his life, to be able to stay connected to his Rhastafarian roots is kinda hard. Specially when America offers you all its riches and temptations.<br /><br />But the man returned to Jamaica. And lived there the rest of his life. They say he couldnt decide what to do with all the money they gave him for his music. Man i wish i could be like that. So humble, so simple.....<br />There's this little story about how he used to go and play football (his favorite sport) with the neighbourhood kids in Jamaica and every weekend he'd buy them footballs and football shoes and gear. One of those immensely touching things about him.<br /><br />His music is beyond appraisal. Its reggae in its true form. Not the Sean Paul shit people listen to nowadays. Dealing with issues touching humanity as one. Poverty, sickness, hunger, freedom. Bob and the Wailers knew how to make songs that could pick up a lost soul on a low day.<br /><br />Dats all i had ta say about dat. I'll let Bob finish off this post....<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"One love, one heart<br />Lets get together and feel alright..<br />(Hear the children crying!)<br />One love, one heart<br />(I'm pleading to mankind!)<br />Say thanks and praise to the Lord<br />and now we'll feel alright...<br />Lets get together and feel alright"<br /></div></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1160032856332144422006-10-04T23:54:00.000-07:002006-10-05T00:20:56.356-07:00I am Stone Man.<br /><br /><br />This is not a joke. And this is not about grass.<br /><br />I am going to praise myself for being a block of ice. Really. I have this phenomenal ability to disregard pain. Not physical pain (i'm actually a bit of a wuss), but emotional pain.<br /><br />Not stress. Stress is different. I get pissed when i'm stressed, as do a lot of people. I mean it would hurt me more if i were not able to finish some work i started than a bust up with a friend.<br />Its not like i dont want to feel hurt. Sometimes you want to share someone else's sorrow but you dont know what to say or do. Thats the case with me. All the time.....<br /><br />Maybe i cant understand what those people are going through. Maybe i'm too thick skinned for it. Whatever it is, i'm not the person you want around to talk with when you're down. I wish i could be more like that, but i cant.<br /><br />I dont like it when people take me for granted. But i guess i'm responsible for that too, the reason being my usual cheerful demeanour.<br /><br />But now that i think about it there are a few things that will wind me up (my definition of pain)<br />a) My family (if something hurts them)<br />b) Ishita (if she's tired)<br />b) Sick people.<br /><br />I am Stone man.<br />I am Stone man.<br />I AM STONE MAN.Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1159171959823635872006-09-25T00:29:00.000-07:002006-09-25T01:12:39.840-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Oggle. Oggle. Gawk. Oggle.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />I can't help it. I really can't.<br />I come from a place where truth is beauty, beauty truth.<br /><br />Well, not really. I'm from Noida. There's nothing beautiful in Noida except perhaps a cluster of pupps that used to live right next to my house.<br /><br />Well, what i want to say is that....ummm.....okay this hard....i have this habit of staring....at women..some of them....<br /><br /><br />Now now i'm not a pervert or anything. I mean i've never even asked a girl out. But then please do not take that as a sign of desperation. This post is a kind of confessional for me.<br /><br />But here in Manipal, contrary to what big city people say, there are quite a few very pretty young things. Oh yes. Maybe not in my college, but very certainly across the road from us.<br />And when i'm walking along thinking of some random stuff, and something like that walks past me, then......well.......i do take a second look.<br /><br />A simple explaination would be to state the obvious. That i'm a normal heterosexual male and these things are.......well.....normal.<br /><br />But then i think about what the female under observation would think of me (and i'm quite sure they can tell they're being scrutinized)......"What a perv!...Why can't these men respect us as equals and not drool over us?!"<br /><br />Fair enough.<br /><br />But in my defense, why do women go through such pains to look beautiful if it isn't for the soul purpose of attracting glances and second glances from men they don't know?<br /><br />I'm still waiting for an answer. And please don't hand me that crap about wanting to look beautiful for one's own satisfaction. What, so now people love looking at themselves in the mirror so much so that they're ready to forgoe actual appreciation?<br /><br />A lot of things are responsible for this craze to look beautiful.....the basis of which is pop culture.<br />Hip hop videos. Pop stars. Cosmopolitan magazine (yelch!!).<br /><br />But, i'll tell you what. Even a quick look at a lovely lady is good enough to pick me up on a bad day. Yeah, i know that's shallow and all, but i'm just being honest here. It's right up there with other pick-me-ups like a curious toddler, manicured lawns, football, a starry night....and a lot of other stuff.<br /><br />There i said it. Judge me all you like but atleast i was honest.<br />But, there is something else i'd like to say. I wish all these dolls could remove the plastic that hides them and let people see the real women. That's beauty because ...that's the truth....<br /></div></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1158784400946475622006-09-20T12:54:00.001-07:002006-09-25T01:14:28.490-07:00<div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Haidinger's Pussy vs. Schroedinger's Cat.</span></span><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;" > </span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >See, one day Haidinger was feeling really horny.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >He told Schroedinger that he wanted some good old pussy. Schroedinger was slightly taken aback because usually the most that Haidinger ever wanted was a large milkshake (?).</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Since H& S were nerds, they didnt know any 'Hot Bitches'. So they were faced with a problem.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >But, using some simple calculus and fourier theory, and being an incredibly god-like mathematician, S was able to find a solution.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Well, something like a solution. Which is actually what all mathematicians do. They find such incredibly horrible solutions to all problems that you're left bemused and the only thing you can say (in trying to not look like a complete dumbass) is "Holy crap. Man, that guy must be smoking some good shit!"</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Anyway, back to H&S. Just when Haidinger was about to apease his sexual appetite -for a while- with some jerky motions of his willy suspention, Schroedinger took him by the arm to a little yard behind their two-storey house in the sub-urbs of San Somewherino, and showed him a cage.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Then he went and put an alley cat (affectionately called 'Leibnitz-ka' by the duo) in the cage and closed the cage door.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Haidinger was highly discombobulated at this strange sight. He questioned S about the relevance of the cat in the cage to the current problem under analysis. He would have been closer to the solution if he had handed him some colorful pornography. But, he persisted.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Schroedinger explained that if one wanted some pussy, taking the cat as the 'Hot Bitch', and the cage as an energy barrier defining 'Coolness' as a function of energy, one would have to tunnel through the barrier instead of leaping it. And even if one did do that the existence of pussy in the cage does not have a finite (normaly distributed) probability distribution .</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Therefore, for low tunneling values one must have high energy driving particles, which refers to the male...ahem...Mr. Cheney.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >But an easier solution to reach the pussy would be to remove the barrier or unlock the cage door. And since the one who created the cage has the keys to it, he has complete access to whatever lay inside.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Thus, to get pussy, Haidinger would have to buy Schroedinger the new "50*50 matrix buster!!" game cartridge.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >And so he did.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >But, since there was no pussy in the first place, the duped Haidinger had to suffice with a Playboy 1964 mag and an empty bowl.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Moral of the story:<br />Never trust a man good with math.</span><br /></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32225893.post-1158468118480897402006-09-16T21:14:00.000-07:002006-09-17T03:32:08.476-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Showy Offy.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Sometimes you just have to look around to find plastic.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">If money, money was the answer</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I'd always have more problems.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Look in the mirror. Skin. Bones. Soul?</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Or one dark hole?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">'Do you wish to buy a new one?!'</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">'Only $99.50!!!'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">No thank you. I'm not cheap.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I'm worse.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Shut up and listen to me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I'm a doll. I'm made of paper.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">With numbers and bits </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">and a balance </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">and a porsche</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">and another doll</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">i call my own.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Accessorise!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Lovely, lovely home.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">It's big.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">It's bright.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">It's beautiful.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Accessorise!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">But now its smaller than the rest..</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">because I let the rats infest..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Now i'm cracking and so is this</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">give me more so i can rest</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">with a smile that will last till i recycle.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Don't leave me now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Curse all. I'll fall.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I'll leave it, i swear!</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Keep me plastic!</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Please, do care...</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">No no no</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">This just wont do.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I want the periwinkle blue.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I want the Turkish</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">the Belgian </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">throw in a Beirut too.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">It'll never end. It'll never end.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Will it ever end?</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">No, it'll never end.</span><br /></div></div>Tathar Faelivrinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07010722937132866753noreply@blogger.com0