<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:50:35.210-05:00</updated><category term='General'/><title type='text'>The Pirate Island</title><subtitle type='html'>Some random mundane events of my life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-6609901208102440747</id><published>2007-04-15T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T11:30:07.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Main Cyber Cafe main hoon</title><content type='html'>haan haan ye sach hai. I have just realized it. Cyber Cafe business is still on. For all those people who have very well exploited the broadband internet technology and have sucked every last byte of that internet cable, cyber cafes do still exist. Be happy now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if someone is reading this blog would be wondering if I was just imported in India from antarctica or so. But no, its not like that. Let me explain in detail. I got time as I have already paid my 10 rupees and I still have twenty more minutes to kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shifted to my new house yesterday and it rained today. One, either it was a mother nature's way of applauding (by thunder) at my begining as a "Living Alone" guy. Somewhat like in those old movies where its always a thunder in an intense scene, where someone is either running furiously from bad guys or when someone is dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or it was just to ruin my only good jeans left ironed and cleaned for tomorrow's office. I blame the keechad and the resturant which had to use such heavy spoons which are now dragging jeans down with weight in my pocket. (I just shifted yaar, I need stuff). To give you some heads up, I'm usually the kind of guy who usually doesn't have a backup pair of clothes ready to be worn to office. Unlike the government's Five Year plans, I usually don't even have 5 hrs plan in advance. And I can only keep a certain number of clean things with me at a particular time. Coming to think of that, I just realized that I would have been a horrible dhobi or laundry wala if I was in that business somehow. Anyway, the point is that right now I am clueless as to what to wear tommorow, and all this because of this cyber cafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How? because I had to walk for almost a kilometer in as huge as 3 feet long roads with a future planned footpath, jammed with keechad. But all is well when end is well, and I am in a cyber cafe to check my emails. Yeay !! And for that jeans? I think a little stain should be a style tomorrow. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: No need to judge me, I do realize that I am being live example of that software engg on that island stuck for 2 yrs , finally meets a girl and asks if I can check my emails ?? But there's a difference u c, just let me check my emails and i will tell you ;) ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-6609901208102440747?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/6609901208102440747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=6609901208102440747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/6609901208102440747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/6609901208102440747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/04/main-cyber-cafe-main-hoon.html' title='Main Cyber Cafe main hoon'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-9102913207935640116</id><published>2007-04-02T07:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T07:21:05.702-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reporting from Office</title><content type='html'>Since the time I have landed in the land of Shivaji, that is pune, its like a paid vacation I alwayz wanted. Only its a little bit on the outskirts of goa, the place where I actually wanted to be, but on the whole its not too bad. I've been able to find my own apartment (although it sounds like i had lost it earlier, but its not like that). I successfully locate food every single day, and have been able to bring down my bank balance by a few extra thousands. Thinking about bank balance, many people have already reminded me of that aate-daal ka bhav wali reality which I earlier thought I can deal with, when it comes to that. Earlier I used to think that, "Yeah!! so whats the big deal? I am moving to another city and hence bound to spend extra money!!". But coming live to it, everything seems so expensive, and I literally fought with the panwala on selling chlor-mint as expensive as 50 paisa per mint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more serious note, I really haven't had time to think about anything so far very seriously. Even at office, they have decided to let go of me and not burden me with work for sometime. If someone was looking at me right now, he would think that I am working very hard with the dedication of a donkey, while I frantically hit the keyboard continuously to type this post for my blog. Blogging from office has its own advantages, you see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about office, right now it feels more like a food court than some big company's office. Wipro has its way to keep employees fulfilled and stuffed. We have all kinds of food available all the time ranging from icecreams to coffee to everything. Thinking of my earlier company gives me the shiver of being in Somalia for all those years, although it was not the case actually . With the kind of workload, where even sarkari daftars would be ashamed, you can just imagine how many extra kilos I am going to gain here. On the whole it seems just like to hold off my breath and watch everything before I can comment anything being on the positive or negative side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till I write a few more updates in my next post, m off to go hunt some snacks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-9102913207935640116?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/9102913207935640116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=9102913207935640116&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/9102913207935640116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/9102913207935640116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/04/reporting-from-office.html' title='Reporting from Office'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115860907898416658</id><published>2007-02-25T05:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T05:41:49.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The entrepreneur inside</title><content type='html'>Well, I expect a tinge of excitement and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;enthu&lt;/span&gt; with each new article I read, everything new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; put in front of me. The excitement lasts a couple of days. The thirst to know more lasts a couple of hours and a desire to do something about it lasts ... well ... gone before I dare to think twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the gist of the story is that I came across this piece of lecture, which blew away my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cceia.org/resources/audio/data/000004"&gt;The world is flat&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The authors talks for about an hour on various interesting topics revolving around globalization, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;offshoring&lt;/span&gt;, insourcing (yeah, this exits too), outsourcing .... well , what he says , flattening of the world. And as like any good orator, he tells numerous interesting stories that proves that the world is, in fact, flat. What makes the article interesting is that you can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;totally&lt;/span&gt; relate to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you enjoy Mr. Friedman, while a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;entrepreneur&lt;/span&gt; inside me thinks of doing something revolutionary around the concept ;).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115860907898416658?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115860907898416658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115860907898416658&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115860907898416658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115860907898416658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/02/well-i-expect-tinge-of-excitement-and.html' title='The entrepreneur inside'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-8910635573792486201</id><published>2007-02-16T16:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T16:40:59.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>beta isiliye sharaab nahi peena.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As I returned towards my car, I saw something. The driver’s side was on opposite direction as I walked, and a head plus mustache was popping out of the roof. I was quite sure that there was an uncleji standing trying to unlock my car. My head started working fast.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why is he trying to unlock my car? Is he trying to steal it? Not a very good thief I guess trying to do that right in front of me. Ok wait, he’s too dumb to be a thief. Thieves are not dumb. My bike was stolen last week and the guy who stole it must be as smart as a PHd atleast. We were like 8&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; pass in front of him. So whats that uncleji up to?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe he is just standing behind the car hiding from someone. His wife? Yeah, wives can be scary. But no. People want to hide, rather run away from them but usually can’t. Kids? Playing? Na. Not on this street. Look, his hand is in sight now. And there is a key. The key is in the lock. And he’s definitely trying to open my car. Damn the uncleji, I have a remote controlled central locking system. What does he know ? Remote Control hai mere paas.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No wait, may be its not my car. Aah, that gives the answer. What was I thinking? Dumb me. There is a similar car on side. Ye lo, that’s the one which is mine, not this one. Bechare uncleji faaltoo “damn you” kha gaye itni baar. Dhatt tere ki. Jao maaf kiya.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Smiley. Sigh. Wait.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I pressed unlocked button on remote.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;oink&gt; [OINK] [OINK]&lt;oink&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/oink&gt;&lt;/oink&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Uncleji’s hand came to a sudden halt after, what seemed like a month of trying to open the lock. That was in fact my car. And lock opening sound has just shocked him. Petrified for like 5 second, he realized what has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Back to his senses he yelled, “Oh! Arey!! Oye!!! Sorry beta !!!” as he walked away embarrassingly to his car, probably thinking “aage se itni kabhi nahi. Tauba.” … &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;;) &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me and my friends had almost laughed our kidneys out as we entered our car … :) … &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-8910635573792486201?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/8910635573792486201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=8910635573792486201&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/8910635573792486201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/8910635573792486201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/02/beta-isiliye-sharaab-nahi-peena.html' title='beta isiliye sharaab nahi peena.'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-5477773472663079220</id><published>2007-02-05T13:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T13:54:45.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>u-turn</title><content type='html'>Life takes a u-turn. Well, looks like it. I wondered how come people get fed up of nothing to worry? I did the same. Well, I realized how much worth I have become four years of watching fwded stuff, beer-ing on fridays, and remaining ghar ka laat shaab with his own seperate room full of TV stuff. Someone must have realised that and corrugated my mind with the opposite. I wonder how can I get brainwashed with such stuff. Hell lot of talent this person must have had. I was thinking of wat was going through my mind , and hey , even u don't get it , but i am still convinced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought of all the ironing and dhulai i'd hav to take care myself, but it wud probably build some character as my mom says. I'd go with "Z" if it really does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought of all the eat-something-just-to-eat-stuff i'd have to do outside, but it'll probably get me more versatalite at eating. I may end up learning how to eat bhindi or arabi for instance. yuckk!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought of all the phone calls i wud wait for , and later wonder why dint i get any. well, i mean, wat wud i do when i'll hav lotzz of time. But hey, i'll hav lotzz of time, i guess ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and look at all the extra beer-ing i'd hav to do :(. But again, on a positive note, look at all the extra beer-ing i'd hav to do ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if nothing else, I cud get married in the end .... ;) . But Wait, this talented person, i mean me, is trying to convince me again that probably i should not ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-5477773472663079220?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/5477773472663079220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=5477773472663079220&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/5477773472663079220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/5477773472663079220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/02/u-turn.html' title='u-turn'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-192963198673128462</id><published>2007-01-26T02:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T02:55:42.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guru</title><content type='html'>Go watch it. Aye sala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-192963198673128462?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/192963198673128462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=192963198673128462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/192963198673128462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/192963198673128462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/01/guru.html' title='Guru'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-8452363597952759811</id><published>2007-01-12T14:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T14:34:59.847-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a shot, Taquilla shot</title><content type='html'>So I was watching this movie called Good Will hunting and somewhere around half time I thought I'd give my blog another shot. A shot more like a taquilla shot, one go, no thinking, whatever comes and maybe it could be more fun than watching friends 149th time. On another thought, yeah right, like it could ever be ... ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway , I've been seeing a lot of my computer screen for past few days. And remaining time I spend seeing my TV screen. I would rather prefer to actually "see" someone instead of that, but pleasure of life is having a desire of what you have not. So, I'm just seeing my lovely screens these days and wondering if I would actually like to see someone. And I'm spending so much time in front of screens that I think now carrots can't save my eyes and I should start using sunscreen to at least save my skin. Sunscreen, that white one ... which cricketers use over their face parts to protect them from something while playing. I figured I could use some of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I've been watching some news channels for past few days. Now thats actually uncommon for a person like me who usually keeps news channels and pluto at a same distance. They make me sick. They make me feel like no good deed could ever come out of a TV screen and I should double the amount of sunscreen I actually use. Of course, expect raju shrivastava and rakhi sawant sometimes, about which i still wonder about having been categorized as news. News channels change the way I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I can see lady suneeta congratulating India on launching 4 satellites, the actual launch occured so smoothly and secretly that none of the cameras could catch it. Left me wondering. :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now that my thoughts have started changing again, I'm thinking, I should get back to Good Will hunting and lets see what this young genius dude is up to. Meanwhile, my dear blog, keep alive. So Long and I'll keep visiting you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-8452363597952759811?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/8452363597952759811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=8452363597952759811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/8452363597952759811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/8452363597952759811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2007/01/shot-taquilla-shot.html' title='a shot, Taquilla shot'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-1194386467191215408</id><published>2006-11-21T14:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T14:25:37.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>while you wait ...</title><content type='html'>Aaj hum aap logon ko Gajar ka halwa banana sikhayenge. Bilkul aasan hai isme koi mushkil ki baat nahi. Aage likhi steps ko dhyan se kariye. To sabse pehle aap gas jala len. Aur ab fridge se gajar nikal kar kisna start karen.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I sense something wrong . koi nahi, A bit busy these days stuck in some studies and some pretend work. While you wait for my next post, and you are vella by defult if you do so, so utilize your time in making gajar ka halwa. I'll be back. Turn off the gas if you want to save some money, i was only kidding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-1194386467191215408?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/1194386467191215408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=1194386467191215408&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/1194386467191215408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/1194386467191215408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/11/while-you-wait.html' title='while you wait ...'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-8545317845233912039</id><published>2006-10-06T00:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T00:13:27.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Is Not Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I never thought I could do so much work in one go. I think work should ideally be distributed uniformly across many dayz in such a way that you have ample time to take a nap or two in between. I am a senior software engineer, and working my ass off in a way so that I can easily get demoted to a junior one, or even an intern level. (Naah, I’m not that bad, I’ve heard higher you move up the ladder, more managerish you become and lesser you have to think or do. So, think reverse.). That is my funda but these people just won’t listen and give me more and more work. And I see so many people around me behaving in such a critically busy way (as if they’re missing an Indian train) that I even have started feeling proud telling people that I am busy. Some people got real offended as they thought I am trying to avoid them. That is the problem in not saying “I’m busy”, term too often. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So I’ve made it a point to repeat these two golden words at least twice a day just for the heck of it. Aakhir image ka sawaal hai. Kabhi na kabhi to banana padegi yaar.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I’m working late nights. I almost dozed off in front of my boss today trying to prove that I’m actually working hard. He didn’t believe me, such an ass he is. But bosses round the world are famous for that and I have no hard feelings for him. I actually tried my best to sympathize with him and tried to prove that all is not bad, unless the whole system failed and my whole life rotated right in front of me. He tried to blame the team and I tried to defend them, the people who made the system. I tried to blame it on something else, but he was just not duffer enough. Darn. I again pitied him and forgave him for his ignorance almost instantaneously. I think he should learn to be more of a manager and should donate what is left of his brain to Mr. George Bush, and then maybe both can be of at least some use to their country.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Somebody had told me long back that you shouldn’t mind people who are angry and yelling. He was yelling that he’ll not let me go back to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. I told him not to worry about that since I will go back anyway. I left when I saw he didn’t recognize the sense of humor in my voice and almost spilled his coffee on his shoes. Well that’s ok because I wasn’t kidding anyway. I was just hoping that he would think that I’m joking or something, and later on I would tell him straight from flight that I wasn’t. Hell of a plan that was.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But somehow, I still feel that work is not enough. I still have time to talk to the people I want to. I am writing this blog already. Was never short of time so as not to pick up and play my guitar at least once everyday. I can check my personal emails, and even write replies. I have time to chat with my few close friends, to eat food and drink coffee. I have enough time to burn my lungs thoroughly and there was never more time to get pissed off at things so confidently. I have not yet stopped taking bath and using deodorant. I still brush my teeth and comb my hair. And so I’ve started believing, no matter how busy you are, you always have time to do the things you like ( or some cleansing things which you have to ). Simply, work cannot be enough, its just never ending facet of our life…. I guess.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, I’ll leave now, I’m quite busy you see… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-8545317845233912039?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/8545317845233912039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=8545317845233912039&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/8545317845233912039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/8545317845233912039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/10/work-is-not-enough.html' title='Work Is Not Enough'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-2898055400502405118</id><published>2006-10-03T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T21:15:31.224-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Party and a Deep Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes I think I am a very versatile guy. On one hand I attend full contri bevda bachelor party with a newspaper, namkeen with kate huye pyaz on top, a few beer and daroo bottles, and a couple of hopeless guys eager to swallow every last drop of alcohol they can. While on the other hand I attend a full fledged family happy birthday parties, with as much as nine families (ok, I usually don’t count, but there was nothing else to do), and kids of all possible ages.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It creates a kind of confidence in you, looking forward to a family life full of decency and veg jokes, that you just can’t. The mere aura of the room looks so enticing, that I wanted to eat a full large pizza, just to keep me busy so that people don’t sympathize with me. A few people did try to console me for my pathetic situation (that is, being a bachelor), but didn’t say more than “feeling bored, huh?”, watching me work all the way on my pizza. Although I did hear a few comments like, “Ha ha, you’re next!!”. But I figure its just their usual way to remind themselves again and again of their happy and fulfilled life, and pull more and more freedom out of people. Of course ;).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So what do you do when you get invited to such family parties? I usually get indulged in some deep thoughts like which beer to buy next, or when would we next go to a beach to see all those blondes taking sun bath. There is ample time to do that at such places, although I did had to pass on a few mature comments like, “yes, I’ll have one more drink”, with no reference to alcohol, and really great thoughts like, “Yes, investing in real state is the best”. Believe me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I don’t know what is it with family people eager to finish up everything they have at their place to eat. “Arrey, aur le lo thoda sa, nachi to bach jayega”. Arrey wo to apan bol nahi paya ki, “Aunty chinta mat karo, apan ghar le ke jayega”, nahi to people would tag me for a typical cheap bachelor forever, more because I called them aunty. I have never seen bachelors doing such stuff in a daroo party except may be for the alcohol they have. That too is not possible because alcohol is just never too much in a party, and so we are spared by such terrible thoughts of alcohol wastage or “alcohol abuse”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And you automatically get promoted to an uncleji kind of guy with so many kids around. Kids were shouting “Uncleji”, and it really brought tears to my ears. I look myself in mirror, and I look like 15 year old kid with may be some extra fat here and there, but these kids break my heart.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With my neck deep in work these dayz, you know, I had to get out of that place right after finishing my pizza. Hey, don’t give me that look, I know what you are thinking … you’re thinking “Ha!” … &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But as I stepped out, I just couldn’t get the happy look at birthday girl’s face out of my head when she cut the cake and everyone sang the birthday song. I just wondered when would be the next time I can become so happy. And probably the last time I was so happy was when I was cutting that cake myself, with family, friends, colony kids and relatives from other cities used to come and sing Happy Birthday for me. They were awesome dayz. I wonder even if a trip to goa would give me that level of innocent happiness.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-2898055400502405118?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/2898055400502405118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=2898055400502405118&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/2898055400502405118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/2898055400502405118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-birthday-party-and-deep-thought.html' title='Happy Birthday Party and a Deep Thought'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115830027824167804</id><published>2006-09-15T01:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T01:33:53.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Philam Ishtar</title><content type='html'>Last few dayz have been hectic. Hectic becuase I had lotz of work. Not that I did much of that, but it was hectic anyways. Sometimes mere presence of a task to complete is much more burdensome than actually doing it. I tried to prove it to my boss that I am not a good soul for it, I was actually born to do something else, like say work in movies. But he won't listen and gave me the unowned ownership. And so I had to work while in office, while at home, while cooking food, while watching you tube, checking cute girls's profile on orkut, checking gmail and I'm working even while writing this post. Its a heavy burden, I need to get some stuff done. And I guess working once in a while haven't broken anyone's leg I know yet. Even my boss works once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on the other hand if you seriously believe that you were born to do something else, I bet you would hate your life after a couple of years. Thats because then all this becomes a temp thing for you and you actually look forward to your true self. And inevitably when it doesn't come, you become what you are. Like for me, I didn't become a movie star. Only if I had chance, I would have been best movie actor ever. But some of my damned depressing friends and my mirror tells me that I am only fit for Ramsay Brother's horror movies with a bedsheet all over me and my face.  And my computer software tells me that I was made only for export quality geeky stuff, which is a hardcoded statement in that software (ok, this was a geeky line, apply your brains). But I blame it to my dad, not running off to somewhere in bombay and become a big shot movie star. If he would have done that, I would have made it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shush now, dont tell anyone, but I am pulling all this movie crap just to tell you guys that hollywood itself has come to my office here in US, with a pretend aim of shooting a film called death sentence, and actual aim of hiring me as lead actor in their next movie. Kevin Becon (its a name, not referring to pig) himself is coming to see the guy chose for their next movie (thats me, dumbo). They have finally recognised acting talent of software guys during all these years. We act everyday during our meetings. You might laugh, but the role is of a short cute Indian guy, who becomes a millionaire after stealing all the spoons one by one from office canteen and selling them on ebay. Inspired by the role, I have already decided to steal the table lamps in the cubicles prepared for movie shoot and sell them on ebay, first thing tomorrow morning. I know there are people crazy enough on ebay to buy such overwhelmingly useless stuff for good money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. before you start hating me, I'll cut this crap out. but I'm not falling asleep and I have nothing better to do, so i will write some more. may be about today. No, don't get any ideas, no matter how much you ask or anything, I'm not going to tell you about what I ate today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to be ready for office by 8.10 this morning. I woke up at 7.55 when my roommate shouted loud enough within millimeters of turning me into the deaf guy with a katora in his hands. Don't worry, It doesn't happen everyday, I forgot to set my alarm last night. The days I set my alarm, I usually keep snoozing it for about an hour and right before my roommate comes to shout, I get up. Mainly because of the fear that I will loose my ears forever if I allowed this shouting everyday. And so everybody blamed me for getting them late, even though I can swear on my shower curtains that they weren't ready either. Its a tough world, you'll be blamed if you are not ready on time. And when I reached office, my conference call was cancelled. Thats sad in a sense becuase now I have to pass 30 more minutes and I could have come more later. But happily, I didn't had to give any status for the work I didn't do. They usually don't care about the stuff you got done, but there's a lot of discussion on stuff you didn't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, since there was lots of work, I decided to take a coffee break first and start afresh. While I just finished coffee, somebody took me to 4th floor where hollywood guys were preparing sets. I sneaked inside and had my pictures pasted in all the cubicles. Now when the movie is released, if my picture shows up on screen, I can sue them to be a millionaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I ran off from that place. What if anybody spots me? Who would sign 300 autographs for crew members? Thats a lot of signing. I have little fingers, which are used to play guitar (ladies, please notice, no kidding!), not to pull some autograph stunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know we just moved till lunch, but its already 1.58 AM and I would have to at least lie down now. I don't have strength enough to run spell check, so if anything bothers you, please copy the text... paste into MS Word and press F7 to run spell check. thank you for your understanding nature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115830027824167804?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115830027824167804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115830027824167804&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115830027824167804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115830027824167804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/09/philam-ishtar.html' title='Philam Ishtar'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115738692273208267</id><published>2006-09-04T11:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T11:24:44.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bhai ko dekhna maangta</title><content type='html'>abe sun re ghaslet... kaan ka wax zara poora bahar nikaal aur baat ko zara dhyan se sun aur samajh. Abhi kya hai kuchh filmon main bheja apply karne ka try naii karne ka kya. comedy ki pavitra bhaavna se movie dekhne ka aur samajhne ka try ekdum se usi time nahi maarne ka. ab pj mat maarna ki bhanva kaun? dimaag sad jata hai apna isse. ye wala joke bahut chal chuka abhi. Haan pan agar tu ekdum hi sentiaps ki dukaan type aadmi hai and u ask for checks (uii... cheques) when the person you robbing doesn't have cash, fir baat alag hai. fir to tera kaleja movie ke beech main hi muh ho aa jayega aur tu side walon ko lagega tu leak kar rela hai. aur baad main bahut majaak udega. to load nahi lene ka, movie ke beech main movie ka majaak banane ka, itta hi man kar riya hai to baad main time mila to sochne ka. samjha kya e leakage?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;go watch lage raho munn bhai and curcuit bhai. a feat in bhejaless movies where the director tries to put in his bheja and tries to convey his message. aur poora chance hai ki pehle aadhe ghante main to hans hans a kidney bahar aane wali hai ma kasam. aur beechh beech main director ne itti zor se bheja lagayela hai ki aankh ka shutter down kar lene ka. thoda time baad kholne ka. aise bhee tu dekhne nahi gaya to koi bada locha nahi hai, bhai log tere ko tere bathroom se utha ke leke jaayenge aur picure dikhayenge. hit karaana maangta hai. bhai ne bola picture hit to hit.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;par ek baat. sath main ek cotton a bedding leke jane ka. arey nahi yaar, kisi ko maarne pitne ka nai. tu samjha hoga ki do jamane ka aur ruyi se blood rokne ka. nahi yaar, watt mat laga mood ki. sun dhyan se. concentrate karke movie dekhna aur jaise hi koi gana vaana aaye kaan main cotton ka gadda daal dene ka. gane nahi sunne ka, sala nahi to gaya bheja ekdum se dark ages main. mamoo, precaution rakhne ka. love story pe bhee jyada dhyan nahi dene ka, love is anyway a triumph of imagination over intelligence. uii... solid baat. :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ab kya hai, i hav seen a hindi movie after a long time. i've got my hair cut twice during that period and its time for third one. to ho sakta hai lambe baalon ki ghutan hai ya picturon se judai ka asar, but munna bhai .. err .. circuit bhai ko dekhna to maangta... samajh main aaya kya? abhi jeb se haath nikal, computer band kar, bike utha aur dekh ke aa. fir baat karte hain apun. dekhte hain tu bhaigiri chhodta hai ki nahi??&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115738692273208267?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115738692273208267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115738692273208267&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115738692273208267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115738692273208267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/09/bhai-ko-dekhna-maangta.html' title='bhai ko dekhna maangta'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115621794214897034</id><published>2006-08-21T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T22:50:25.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Atif is Back ...</title><content type='html'>This guy just rocks... I dunno what he eats for breakfast, but his songs are just full. Now the character in the video below is not Atif himself... I just took the link coz it was the only full song video on you tube... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5mDLnGgqrnM"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5mDLnGgqrnM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atif_Aslam"&gt;Also check out what Wikipedia has to say about this guy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I was talking to one of my good friend &lt;a href="http://prayank.blogspot.com"&gt;Prayank&lt;/a&gt;, we couldn't agree more that it is Bollywood that is corrupting the heart of Indian music industry, while the pakis just rock at that. It just can't be lack of talent in India, but they are overshadowed by Bollywood's dhin-chak-mirchi type songs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we be more supportive of our guys too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115621794214897034?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115621794214897034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115621794214897034&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115621794214897034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115621794214897034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/08/atif-is-back.html' title='Atif is Back ...'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115613788168024883</id><published>2006-08-21T00:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T00:35:23.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadi ki jana main kaun?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m listening to the song “Bulla ki Jana main kaun” and watching the video also. Its an amazing feeling to see a sardarji playing guitar all the way. And that too very seriously, without any “Oye Balle Balle!!” and all that. Who would have thought of that? Sardarjis are in all parts of the world, in most of the movies and are doing all kind of stuff.  I see a space shuttle going off track, I don't care. But a guitarist sardarji? I feel like paresh rawal in heraferi, all confused. Although he is playing good, far better than I would ever play, but his guitar doesn’t have the look of being a happy dude about it. Now I know how my guitar feels when I play it. It would be crying in all his energy to be handed over to a sardarji rather then me fondling and molesting it. Not a good sign for me ;).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m a grown up boy now. I guess so because of the fact that most of the people talk to me about marriage these days. And that too apparently mine. Earlier they use to talk about my work. More earlier, they use to talk about my marks and exams, which was an absolute torture. I had to apply more brains to talk about exams than exams themselves. Its hard to make up all the stories you know, about why are you still good even though your marks suck and how the teachers and system are inefficient. Its an absolute rocket science, considering that I had to come up with a new story every six months, after every semester. I use to apply my brains every six months, and it’s been four years since I did that last. I can’t stop laughing at that.. ;))&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And if stupidity could be sold on per kilogram basis, I would be millionaire by now. I prove that again and again by giving sensible answers to questions like, “What kind of girl you want?”. And they take it as I’m just dying to get married. And because I cannot find a girl by myself, I’m just begging them to find one. Well, the first part is true, so I don’t mind.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But anyway, showing some sensibleness is far better than the answer I gave the first time mom asked that question. I went like, “eighth pass atleast”. Mom did not understand my seriousness at all and gave me the worst-ever-son-look-at-shravan-kumar look and asked me to grow up. Now I want to be all honest about it, I mean, a girl would have to donate all his brains to local municipality’s sweeper guy to get ready to marry me. And if she doesn’t, mom would have to sell all her jewelry and give money to the girl to convince her. But I decided to give some answer to this question after that, and now they want me to get married and grow up at the same time. Alright.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, life’s been pretty much chill since I made the decision to go back to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; in October, except for all those marriage talks. Although its only been two days since I made that decision but I already feel the smell of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Indore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;’s Poha/Jalebi and cut chai. I can’t wait to get home, where everything is familiar, even stray dogs and pigs make you feel right at home… ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bulla song is over twice now and I will end this post. Let me go back to the song again and check out more closely if that sardarji is playing that guitar for real... ??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115613788168024883?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115613788168024883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115613788168024883&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115613788168024883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115613788168024883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/08/shadi-ki-jana-main-kaun.html' title='Shadi ki jana main kaun?'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115601844106348754</id><published>2006-08-19T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T15:38:19.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Morale Science</title><content type='html'>Yesterday one of my flat mates, while eating eggs (arey yaar cooked, not raw), asked the other one “how many eggs have you eaten till now?”. The other guy gave him a damnedest veggie look you’d ever see in you life and took this as a very personal question. He asked other one to leave the apartment right away. They didn’t tell me, I wasn’t home, but after noticing the state of two my pillows, I believe they fought too. I wonder why they didn’t throw eggs at each other. So now the egg eating guy is leaving this month end, while the veggie guy was already scheduled to leave a few dayz after that. So now I’m out of roomies, a treat for enjoying my beer out somewhere at that time… God is indeed watching… ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are interesting; sometimes stuff just comes right in your nose from nowhere, and you just can’t blow it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I’m hitting all time low on morale, almost 50 feet deep now. The way my roommates keep telling each other stuff, I dig almost three quarters of a foot per day. Soon enough, I’ll be a bore hole and will hope to solve some water problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this sign hung in a cube of one of my colleague (angrej) doesn’t help much out of my situation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“The beating will continue, Until morale improves ...”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought its like a catch-22. Since beating will continue, morale will keep on going down and hence beating will continue for ever. That was the Sylvester-Stallone-working-out type phase of my stay and I was made to work at a rate of 40 kg per second. But one day I figured, there gotta be a way to stop beating, I mean, what kind of a by-birth-eating-raw-eggs pessimist dude would post such a pessimistic note in his cube? May be I’m reading it by the same logic by what you’d consider Ganguly to be best ever on-side player beating the balls out of Shoaib Akhtar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tried to putting it the other way round. I thought if my morale keeps getting down, the beating will keep on going. So I guess, I’ll have to improve my morale somehow to get the beating to stop. Bingo!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the right answer this time and tried my best to improve my morale by watching 2 Akshay Khanna and 1 Govinda movie. I could not rent a Ranjikanth one, or it would have been a perfect boost to get even my intestines working at twice their rate, although intestines working so fast would pose some obvious problems. Anyway, morale did improve but the beating still only slowed down, it still won’t stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that’s then I figured. Beating won’t stop coz I was consciously trying to keep my mind off it while watching those movies. I realized, 20 years from now, none of the beatings matter, but the morale will keep you going. And I started enjoying Friends in a real sense, without the thought of any reason whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And beating did stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that’s true, 20 years from now, if I live, none of this would matter anyway, only happiness remains. So go and do whatever you want, not what you see others are doing. And as forrest gump used to say, “there's only so much fortune a man really needs...”, I don’t care about my extra savings either. I have enough, and I have my life. Not a real ambitious thing to say, but to hell with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bhai log, I’ve made my decision now. I’m cutting my trip short and coming back to India early October sometime… yippiee.. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma and pa are real happy, I’d get to spend Diwali with them. I plan to buy lotz of crackers and blow the hell out of everybody’s eardrums. I’ll save half to throw at my current room mates, but sush!!, don’t tell ‘em. They’ll really hate me if they come to know of this post. Being real personal fellows, they may take it personally and decide to throw eggs or tomatoes at me. I don’t want that. I mean, who’ll do all the washing after that? But then, since 20 years from now none of these eggs would matter, what the hell… let me go and get some eggs made…  at least those ones wouldn't be thrown at me then ... :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115601844106348754?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115601844106348754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115601844106348754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115601844106348754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115601844106348754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/08/morale-science.html' title='Morale Science'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115591151625891250</id><published>2006-08-18T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T10:15:26.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Of a certain K3G phase in life</title><content type='html'>&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;(Warning: Long and a dimaag ka dal fry kar dene wali post, resulted as a side effect of overdose of an overnight   thought injection, which usually I’m allergic to)  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No, Aishwarya is not getting fatter and she’s still prettier and sexier than all the other ladies out there. If you are one of those people who think that her dayz are gone and Mallika Sherawat rocks, please pick your suitcase and get the hell out of here. And if you are one of those who are still in love with Aish, then get the hell out of here too, I don’t need no more competition. I’m already going crazy here and will tolerate no more Sanjay Datts out there trying to touch her here and there.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I have decided that I’m going to run this blog wild, free and crazy. When mallika can run herself up that way screen, I can at least do it with my blog. For last few weeks, I’ve scraped at least 20 posts because my thought are going all haywire, itni buri tarah inspired by Kaante movie that they are killing all each other in a sunny deolish manner with ukhdo handpumps and all. I close my eyes and I see myself holding one big sword covering all the earth in a round shape and I’m moving in a train. If you happen to like Veer Zara, yaar bole to if your brain is the size of an amoeba, then mujhe samjhane de chirkut, I’m going all crazy kind of these days with my temper balanced on a mosquito, who is biting Amitabh Bachhan’s nose in Deewar, and is going to get shot in 2 sec by Big B himself. I’m all like dharma paji with his index finger in his mouth and “Kutte, main tera khoon pi jaaonga” kinda stuff.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It seems like I’m just trying to keep my ice cubes cold, where none of this matter. I get real meaning of Nirvana these days. By the time I get to finish my post, my thoughts already fly away to some distant galaxy and then the post doesn’t make sense even to me. All the money, job, internet, life, purpose, soul, all seem like non-fat milk. So just in case this post makes it to my blog, that would be a downright sixer, as if Jugal Hansraj is back into movies with a machine gun in his hands killing all the gundas trying to molest his girlfriend.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now I hate to write salma aga kind of stuff. Stuff which makes you take your finger up your nose and kill the only few remaining and living brain cells, finally making a big cavity up in your skull stuffed with can food. And by a curious misfortune, this post is going right there to the smallest circle of sadness dart board. All I would actually like is to go to youtube to watch some movies, read some fundoo blogs whose links are on the right, watch some comedy serials with girls in mini skirts and keep my mind off things.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But that’s ok to happen. If you are dropped off on an island even some where in &lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Hawaii&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; all on your own, with nobody to talk to, and 40 ton per cubic inch work pressures, this happens. And some of the stuff is copyrighted itta zor se ki I just can’t let it out. I’m doing just like what most of my friends doing these days, having hard time with trouble to find good-and-not-half-boiled-chicken type food, lack of watching Akshay Kumar or Govinda movies, adwares attacking laptop from outer space, and people saying stuff like, “Nothing new yaar, even Aishwarya is getting fatter”. And lack of emails/scraps/comments adds up to the tension which I’m sure will someday cause India-Pakistan historic civil .. er.. nuclear war.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Blogging is one of the things which keeps my mind off. So here I go... happy blogging.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Although I know not many people read this blog, but even if you are, then no need to feel anything for me right now, it’s just a phase, I’ll make it go away. Leave a comment if you want to, may be it will make me feel better. I deserve at least a comment since I made you come this far and you actually had to scroll once…;). If you feel like scrolling on a blog to read it down, that post is good enuf. Most of the times I’m not like it, believe me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I know that I’m just writing bullshit, which I should actually try to make funny, but I just can’t these dayz. And believe me, even if I only by mistake read this post twice, its going to recycle bin too. But I’m in desperate need of a post to blog, even though I’m having a real hard time writing this K3G type stuff.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And In a true Vijay Dinanath Chauhan’s mummy style, agar bhagwan kahin hain aur ye sab likh raha hai, then I definitely need a copy of the document for my records because what he should be writing is, “Just a phase”. If he’s writing anything else, folks, count me in for an atheist. I really mean it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m really sorry for all those whom I made read this post, if this one makes it to my blog, I will personally meet them and throw in a super-cut chai party with parle g buiscuit for you to make up. If you are a single girl and reading this post, I want to assure you that I’m not a classical case of broken heart; I’m way past it by years now and now I’m really cheery. So you just need to drop in your phone number, even if you are reading this post many years later. For your records, I have a decent salary, good career and a rocking life ahead, no kids and no kidding...;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Chal dhakkan, ab bahut ho &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;gaya&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; sorry vorry, ab nikalta hoon yahan se. Aaj Friday hai, I just want to party… yeay…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I guess I just need to loose control (Amir wala), bahut ho &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;gaya&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; loose-control (bole to dheela wala).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115591151625891250?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115591151625891250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115591151625891250&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115591151625891250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115591151625891250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/08/of-certain-k3g-phase-in-life.html' title='Of a certain K3G phase in life'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32798709.post-115568844355130214</id><published>2006-08-15T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T18:18:49.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let’s get the party started …</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Oh well, you might be wondering, but on the 1000&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; hit on my previous blog, I had to close it down. Of course, the 1000&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; hit was by your pal here. I’m just following a simple logic by what I started blogging, and that is to blog freely. I had to do it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now that I have taken out the bone successfully out my throat, let me start by trying to write something here…. enssoi… )&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last week we went out to a bar to grab some beers, continuing our usual Friday trend. To the same place where we went last to last week. And we had some really chill time there then, with the cutest waitress of all times serving right at the table next to us. (I just realized that it would be more chilling, if she’d have been serving us). But anyway, I was practically into her, until I got scared by the big bald muscular manager who frenched her right up to the throat. So long.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But there was something real funny with the place tonight, and I couldn’t make anything out of it initially. It was jam packed and I had to drink two beers standing, staring at the only decent waitress. Now don’t get me wrong, if you are with your American friend(s) and his wife, you got to check out chicks. Or they’ll think you are gay. Seriously serious, no kidding. Now that rocks!! What more do I want in life to be able to check out chicks on the expense of being considered straight and a nice guy… bingo!! And I think I really took the advantage of the situation and stared the hell out the waitress’s face, and below, almost making her come on to me and ask me out on a date (Yeah right, I wish!!). She was hell of a looker.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I just followed my natural tendencies to be a moron-guy-checking-out-chicks and finally the American guy told me the funny thing about the place I suspected, which surpassed my Sherelock Holmes eyes.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Each Friday, all the gay people in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Columbia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; (or the most of them) decide a place via email … and they all attack it. And by the good grace of Murphy, this place was it tonight.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now first thing that surprised me was that gay people had internet and emails. And second that they know how to use it to booze?? And now I’m all conscious, “what the hell? All the guys standing around the bar are gay? Will they start doing something in public? The guy who just said excuse me was gay? Did he try to touch me??”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now I have nothing against gay people… It’s just that they are gay. Much the way dogs would think of American humans, when dog owners have to pick up their poop. Now I know how girls would feel when they are surrounded by real tapori type guys making comments. I realized the evilness of eve teasing on an another level, really.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We got the hell out of that place before it started getting all creepier and headed off to another bar downtown… for a fresh new booze start…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This blog is a fresh new start also… welcome to the party… ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ps: Nothing much about the name of the blog, I was watching the famous movie and I happen to like parties and booze… ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32798709-115568844355130214?l=islandofapirate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/feeds/115568844355130214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32798709&amp;postID=115568844355130214&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115568844355130214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32798709/posts/default/115568844355130214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islandofapirate.blogspot.com/2006/08/lets-get-party-started.html' title='Let’s get the party started …'/><author><name>The Ghost</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2nn2ar9OzXc/SsEZwfqbiDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A8eAJXQEaIs/S220/calvin2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
