Ramblings of a delusional dumbass

Eggs are like non-veg potatoes. Extremely versatile. There are literally hundreds of ways to cook an egg, and you can never go wrong. Unless you want a boiled egg. Fucking boiled eggs.  It took me years, literally YEARS, to learn how to make good boiled eggs. It has one ingredient. The fucking egg. Cooked in water. That is all there is to it. And I have spent hours on end trying to cook it right. Peeling the egg is a pain in the ass. Uncooked egg is a pain in the ass. Wordsworth should have written a poem on peeling badly cooked boiled eggs. The pain, the agony, the depressing frustration of having wasted a perfectly good egg.  Lets take a step back and learn what makes a good  boiled egg-  1. It should be cooked through. The egg whites have to be cooked to soft, silky consistency. The yolk can range from runny yellow liquid awesomeness to soft yellow mushy awesomeness. 2. The shell should peel right. Without the end product looking like the left...

An asshole cut me off at Manyata today. That was both a. An asshole move on his part b. An extremely stupid move on his part Because let's face it. It's fucking Manyata.  Where are you gonna go when you cut me off? You're gonna be right in front of me, asshole, and I'll be giving you a death stare through your mirrors. Making uncomfortable eye contact for about half a kilometer or so. Following traffic rules is real important and everything, but this is what it got me thinking. I assumed he was an asshole as soon as he rushed his nimble Pulsar to fill the little space between my bike and the Indicab in front of me. To me, he will always be an asshole of the supreme kind, no matter what. But what if he isn't an asshole. What if he runs an NGO for blind kids. Maybe he was just on his way to donate blood for the 100th time. I don't know. If any of those were true, then I am the bigger asshole- not only because I have never done any of those, but also for...

"Take your documents" Sid said, lighting his Gold Flake. At first we thought he was joking. He was always a joker, we had a nervous laugh and returned to our serious discussion. "I'm serious, you fuckers. Take your documents- study certificates, marks cards, passports, bank passbooks, fucking birth certificate if you can get your hands on it. Take it all" He said again. The joke was getting real old, considering what we were talking about. "Enough with the jokes man, Sid" Prakash intervened. "This is not one of your..." "Shut up Sid" I pitched in. "Come on man. This is not the time." "Look man," Sid leaned in and looked at Prakash square in the eyes. "You are running away with your girlfriend. You have no fucking idea if you parents will accept you both..." "Well they will accept me. They have to! I am their only s..." "Yeah. Yeah... let me finish you faggy. IF they don...

Ha ha ha ha ha! Gotcha! Confession time- the obvious click-baity title was to increase page views. This post has nothing to do with dating married women. Well it does, but it's not what you think. You can leave now if you want to. I have no use for you anymore, peasant. Marriage, like becoming a Chartered Accountant is hard. I don't know anything about either of them, but that is what people say, so i'm gonna assume it is so. An ideal marriage is one where both parties involved are absolutely compatible. They remember all the important dates, they give each other just enough space, he puts the toilet seat down and she makes the sandwich. I just described the ideal marriage in a sentence. I can only imagine how fucking boring being in one would be. Aiming for ideality is good. Actually achieving it is both impossible and improbable. What most people don't realize is that you need to wear different hats, ties, suits and skirts in a marriage. Your wedding is essen...

    Back in my day, Sundays always meant two things- Dosae and chutney for breakfast, and one Kannada movie on Doordarshan at 4 pm. This was a strict routine in most of the houses where I lived (and for all the five people who read this, where you lived as well). People would actually feign surprise if one had had anything other than Dosae (or an occasional Idly) for breakfast. Dosaes were served with chutney,and if your mom was in the mood, potato palya.    Chutney. There are over a hundred thousand varieties of chutnies, and I'm not exaggerating. What's unique about this humble side dish is that it tastes different depending on the one who makes it. If your mother makes chutney, it tastes like your childhood, flooding nostalgia in your mouth. If your disgruntled wife makes it, it will taste like her cries about your selfish insensitive self who doesn't care about of any of her needs and her tears. So sad. But seriously, if just want some chutney to go with...

*NOTE* Women, please stay away from this post. Here, why don't you read  this  instead. TL;DR: Answer in a monosyllable, like you don't give a fuck and continue doing whatever you were doing. Most men to panic when a woman asks them this question, because they believe that it has no "right" answer. This is suicide mission forced upon them by women. I guess this is what goes on in a woman's mind when she asks a guy this question- "..." Exactly. Women aren't rational thinkers, their decisions are based on emotions, and they try to rationalize it later. Of course women will refute this, they don't want the other sex to know of their secrets! But I digress. I say "most men" because there are a  few of us enlightened folks, who know exactly how to respond to this without the fear of fucking things up. It's quite easy actually, in fact it is so simple that it makes it that much easier for us to overlook this. However, when confro...

I found  this  on my FB feed. I thought it was a bunch of bull, so I asked the moderator if he would publish my views on the subject. He asked me to post it as a comment and assured me that the author would surely respond. I had too much on my mind to leave a lousy comment, hence this high drama. The disclaimer claims not to generalize or demean the traits mentioned, but it goes on to do exactly that. I don't find this article offensive, no I don't get butt hurt over goof ups on the the internet. But I do find the article to be stupid and annoying. According to the author, the only kind of guys women ARE supposed to date are the fat, unkempt, shy, butt kissers. NOTE: I am using the same classifications used in the said article, but will be writing my own views. So if the titles seem a little "off", that's not me. 1. The epic "ultra cool" dude: Now, because this was written by a girl, I sense strong passive aggressive lesbian vibes here. There...

I wonder why it's called butter milk. It's made from yogurt, and the butter's been removed. Why don't we just call it low fat, no butter yogurt? Another one of life's great mysteries. Anyway, by the end of this post you must have the theoretical know hows of how to make a decent to half decent, scratch that, you will know how to make the best fucking majjige you have ever tasted. It will be so good, you will want to live on a majjige diet for the rest of your life. Why do you think i'm so lean , and sexy.                         This is me, minus the pretty face, abs, and I usually have my pants on at all times. This is a really simple recipe.  You don't have to turn on the stove at least, there by cutting down the risk of accidentally burning the house down to zero. Unless you really do want to burn the hose down and are using this as an excuse. Which is cool by me. Just don't blame me. There are two ways to make b...

ನೋಡಿ, ಈ friendzone ಅನ್ನೋದು skirt ಇದ್ಧಂಗೆ, ತೀರಾ gender specific. ಅದು ಕೇವಲ ಹೆಣ್ಣ್ ಮಕ್ಕಳಿಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ಸೀಮಿತ. ಗಂಡ್ ಮಕ್ಕ್‌ಳು ಅದನ್ನ ಉಪಯೋಗಿಸುವಂತಿಲ್ಲ. ಹಾಗಂತ ನಮಗೆ ಅಂತ ಬೇರೆ alternative ಇದೆ. ಅದರ ಹೆಸ್ರೆ ENEMY ZONE. ಹೌದು, ಇದನ್ನ ನೀವ್ಯಾರು ಹೆಚ್ಚಾಗಿ ಕೇಳಿರ್ಲಿಕ್ಕಿಲ್ಲ, ಆದ್ರೆ, ಇದನ್ನು ರಾಮಾಯಣದಲ್ಲಿ ಬಹಳ ಸ್ಪಶ್ಟವಾಗಿ ಉಲ್ಲೆಕಿಸಲಾಗಿದೆ. ಕ್ರಿ.ಶ ಅದ್ಯವಾಗ್ಲೋ, Mr. ____ರಥ, ಅವರು ಯಾವುದೋ weak moment ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಕೊಟ್ಟಿದ್ದ strong ಮಾತು ಉಳಿಸಿ ಕೊಳ್ಳಲು ತಮ್ಮ ಪುತ್ರ ರತ್ನ ಶ್ರೀ ರಾಮನನ್ನ fourteen years, forest tourಗೆ ಕಳಿಸ್ತಾರೆ. (ಇದು ನಿಮಿಗೆ ಗೊತ್ತು ಅಂತ ನನಗೂ ಗೊತ್ತು, ಕಥೆ ಇನ್ನೂ ಇದೆ, ಮುಚ್ಛಕೊಂಡ್ ಮುಂದಕ್ಕ್ ಓದಿ) (insert offensive honeymoon issue, or the lack of it), ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಶ್ರೀ ರಾಮ ಅವರ missusಉ ಅವರಜೋತೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹೊರಡೊದಿಕ್ಕೆ ಸಿದ್ಧ ಆಗ್ತಾರೆ. ಅವರೊಂದಿಗೆ, Mr. ಕಬಾಬ್ ಮೆ ಹಡ್ಡಿ, alias Mr. ಶಿವ ಪೂಜೆಲಿ ಕರಡಿ, alias Mr.ಲಕ್ಷ್ಮಣ 'ಲಕ್ಕಿ' ಹೊರಟು ನಿಲ್ಲುತಾರೆ.  ಇವರು ಮೂರು ಜನ (point to be noted, ಮೂರು ಜನ ಹೋದ್ರೆ ಕೆಲಸ ಕೆಡುತ್ತೆ. ಅವರು ಹೋದ ದಾರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಬೆಕ್ಕು ಅಡ್ಡ ಬಂತೋ, ಇಲ್ಲವೋ ಎಂಬುದು ಚರ್ಚೇಗೀಡಾಗಿರುವ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ), ತಮ್ಮ ಪಾಡಿಗೆ ಕಾಡಿಗೆ ಹೋದರು. ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಅವರಿಗೆ Mr. Guha ಸಿಗುತ್ತಾರೆ,  a well...

Me : Hey, can you cook? Random person, who is not necessarily not a girl : Only easy stuff like Dosas, and Chapattis... (sheepish smile)  82.36% of all Indians, (88.75% if you take only south Indians into account) claim that they can cook Dosa with ease. Only problem is Dosas are not easy to make. Sure, spreading a ladle of dosa batter on the hot tawa and flipping it over is easy. But that is not making dosa, that is merely spreading a ladle of dosa batter on the hot tawa and flipping it over. By that account, i can open a bag of chips, doesn't mean I can make them! Actually, I can make chips (sheepish smile), but that is not why. Making dosa requires years of experience, a fine understanding of the cooking utensils at your disposal, and if possible a masters degree in advanced thermodynamics. It requires the patience of a saint. Not only are you making a simple dish, but you will be experiencing transcendental bliss, a philosophical enlightenment which will enhance your liv...

Most cookery books or cookery shows teach you how to cook exotic foods. Elaborate dishes whose names are just as exotic as the places they come from. You have these internationally acclaimed chefs with chefy sounding names like Heston or Nigella teaching you how to make stuff that they promise, will leave your guests wanting for more. Here’s the thing, most people, way over 90% of them, don’t try out any of those dishes. You know this. I know that you know this. How many times has your mother or wife threatened to murder you in your sleep when you try to change channels when they are watching their favorite cookery shows? I’ve lost count of mine. And how many times have they cooked any of those dishes? That’s right. He: Honey, quick! Turn on the news! There’s an alien invasion!!! She: Not now. I’m watching Nigella make chocolate stuffed chocolate balls covered in gold wrappings, served with chocolate syrup. He: That’s just chocolate all over… You know that stare she g...

"We Indians are so shy, that sometimes it makes uslook like fucking idiots" - Anonymous Indian This is what happens whenyou go visit a friend-but-not-such-­a-close-friend-that-­you'd-let-them-borro­w-your-iron-maiden-c­d, or when you accompany yourfriend (the one with whom you wouldn't mind sharing your iron maiden cd) to his friend's house who is essentially a stranger to you. You better read that again, it's confusing as hell. After verbal pleasantries and small talk, your host, usually a middle aged aunty who's wearing a duppatta over her nightie asks you with a wide smile"Tea or Coffee?" And you immediately reply with a "No, i've just had some", or something to that effect, with an equally wide smile, even though the last time you had coffee was way back in the morning before you went to the john. At this point all conversations take a back seat, and that tea- coffee tangent suddenly becomes important. The host is hel...