And Just When you Thought "It Can't get Any worse"

What would you call a population exploded Moscow?



Cramlin.

Punderous Pundulating Pink Punther - Line #04, Page #4176, Volume #465

An irate Vietnamese may be sufficiently Hanoied.

The Investment Handbook (Section 30-Clause 40-2)

Do not judge an insurance by its cover...you could end up making false claims. :D

What is...A globe-trot of the balmy Jinwinus Odius Underamus - Manuscipt #16, Article-8

Marriages are not made in heaven
Marriages are not escape from reality
Marriage is not a wedding
Marriage is not laughterville
Marriage is not cream cake and psycho toddler
Marriage is not help around the house
Marriage is not stuffing kids in the back seats with sticky candy pops
Marriage is not a reason for safe sex
Marriage is not "Do I look fat...hmmm?"
Marriage is not "Listen to your mom"
Marriage is not "Fuck yooo dayd! Unggh!"
Marriage is not "How about we try it with rubber now?"
Marriage is not about cold showers and hot sex
Marriage is not about whacking off under the table while wife makes a demand for new corning-ware
Marriage is not powderered baby bums
Marriage is not a new christmas tree
Marriage is not a clean hand towel

Marriage is soon to be:
A soap solution
A cruise liner
A filioque clause
A demographic insanity
A cold virus
A box of Twix
A classical theory
A kosher non-dairy creamer
A cow's 3rd udder
A rabbi's libido
A Sistine fresco
A .500 Magnum
A dollop of vanilla
An icing drip
A train ride

Marriages are currently a spaced out gratuitous nookie ceremony

(Bus)thi Mein Gusthi.

Buses that hail their route from tamil nadu have a very typical way of creeping through your skin. But they still manage to evoke the rustic within you. We missed the 7:15 Infosys fleet and realised that we need to be in town in another 45 minutes. So we saddled our satchels and boarded this odorous omnibus en route from Polachi. *Dekha hai pehli baar, ninde ammachi'de randaam kalyanum - dinkichikidi dinkichikidi dinkichikidi*.
Saar, two tickets to Madiwala saar.
Sushtin dupis!!
We take out two 10 rupee notes and grace his podgy palms with them.
Transalated - *Daye, mou you're kundi, laydis coming. Mou mou!!!!!*
*Yenna ponnu kannu munnu tinki tinki shutty blah!*
*Daye daye, vayi moodadraa thiretu rhaaskhal!!!!*
I spy with my eye two vacant seats. *O mereeeeeeeee saaaaaaaaaajaaaaannnnnaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!*
All's well for five hundred metres and then jump on two ammas with big bommas!!!
*Kishi pishi kishi pishi oota poota witi witi poo poo, hee hee (giggle - ellow tith).*
One bomma right in my face. I resist the urge to lay a punchatantra on one of the colossal gundamanis' kundis and just start talking to Jitu.
Long ride back home!!

Hardees - The Search for the Universal Black Hole

Here's an insight into a theory that could pass as a probablity enigma.

If I go to Hardees and order the Monster Thickburger, the lady behind the register would advertantly put across the universal fast food question "Would you like fries to go with that sir?"

Take now that I go ahead order a large box of fatty fries alone!

Question: Will I still be faced with a repercussion of the same concord or will there come to pass that the universe inverts itself and causes a concentration of mass within itself therefore preventing the release of any atomic matter by causing a distortion of the antimatter, rendering its inability to sufficiently prove the existence of extragalactic jets ergo proving that existentialism is nothing but a full blown fallacy of the doctrines followed by non theistic members, eventually warping time and space in an infinite implosive-explosive sub atomic nuclei detonation?

Faithfully...Yours!

To perpetuate Bean's thoughts on his beliefs.

"Belief implies faith, and faith needs no proof. " Though the latter half of this statement holds good for me I need a moment with my senses of what secernates belief and faith.

Therefore we now have to present the incompatibility between belief and faith.
Belief as I know it, is a trust placed in a vague entity or a hypothesis. I believe in God, his omniscience and I believe in his supremacy. But it cannot be proven with collateral of his existence. Therefore my belief can probably never be substantiated. Thus my belief remains a belief and nothing more than that. While at the same time, I have a faith. I have a faith in the judicial system because it has helped thwart malice and injustice many a time. Thus faith for me would indicate a 'stronger than oak' belief. "My compatriates placed utmost faith in me and I betrayed the very same." The reason for them to have placed such a faith in me was because of prior certification of my ability to maintain their trust. But now I've betrayed a truth not a hypothesis. I was dependable, but now it seems that I am not. Belief isn't a confidence, its an intuition, that you're quite aware can turn onto you. While in faith, I lend myself completely into the element in question but then again I can still say I am assured that my faith will not prove wrong. While a zealot is purely a proponent of a belief, he does so because of his faith in factors that are proven and can be assured as thematic to such a belief.

The belief I hold in a supernaturality is purely because that I have faith in the concept of creationism. This may or may not have been proven but, creation did not happen to conceive itself. Just as the big bang happened and may be backed faithfully by scientific reckoning so too is my belief in God although this belief does not stem my faith in him. Though his existence forms the crux of my belief I have no faith in his abilities as almighty. I have no faith in his actions upon humanity. He holds a position that I feel affects my abilities in no way thus summing up his omniscence as just a belief without sufficient circumstance.

Ergo it maybe said that belief maybe a subserviant rank of faith, because I believe that faith is belief backed by faithful evidence.

Sparky Tune under Cosmic Conquest

I kill, thrill and will pill you
I stand forth and twiddle my thumbs
Here now lying around are bloodshot chums
I still will chill you

Succour me when time arrives
Spill vice on my rice and it will burn
My loom will spin finest fur
My totem cries of generation gone

Fried eggs on winter dew
Sprained ankle and blood spew
Caustic sting is scorpion dance tune
Whistling tunes we dance in the dunes

Leave the cattle to graze in peace
Horn and Bell shine in accordance
Speak not of cries of yore but scream
till silence drips down wet paint

Body Talk

The locksmith spins gold to kiss her
cheeks with fur of arabesque timbre

Iris Ayatollah speaks very divnely of
the way her lids nestled her optics

Nostradamien was especially proud of
her olfactory modality and her taut cartilage

Sir John Lipton graced her speech orifice
with the finality of a supreme pontiff

Earnest Babenburg displayed no end of praise
to her aural aesthetics and her soft lobe

The necromancer smite his malleus
in tribute to that chewable throat

Titjana Perizkova swore to the tenderness
of her velvet bosom that purged her fullness

And while the naval officer appreciated her soft abdominal
the hippy swooned to the intoxication of her callipygian rondure

And all along whilst Raveena Tendon did pout
Our lady's heel did convulse to suggest the endowment

Punderous Pundulating Pink Punther - Line #218, Page 9328, Volume 1700

I once met a physical, Lee, this abled man.

You've seen one store, you've seen a mall.

Pork Chop

In the olden days butchers weren't really given the name "Butcher". Thats something that resided in people's minds as the perfect name after what had come to pass.
Prior to being called butchers, all edible meat dissectors maintained a common reference as "Pork Chop".
Through time, women entered the political coast and greater attention was given to what was deemed as socially acceptable and unacceptable.
On a fine Tuesday morning when fresh goats, lamb and swine came in to Habibullah St. women swarmed the market looking for a part of the best cuts. One woman, named Imamma Heyn Packa walked around the market place looking for one particular meat dicing storage but didn't find it. In the end she sent a notice to her close friend, Ms. Veystal Virginia who worked as president of the Mescaline party in parliament. The notice was brought up in council meetings and party summits and was finally heard and heeded 3 months after it made circulation rampant throughout the parliament.
An ordinance was passed thereafter where every meat trader was to trade under a term other than that of 'Pork Chop'. Apparently the name ''Pork Chop' tended to evoke thoughts of heinous acts of slaughter upon domestic fowl. The ordinance didn't go down too well with the masses but they agreed to it upon the condition that they get to come up with their own conjured reference. This permission was duly granted and the meat cutters called themselves 'Pork Shop'.
The con worked for a little while, until another woman by the name of Rosemary Time sent a notice regarding the gimmick and how the new name provided no sense of relief as against the one prior to it.
Once again the ordinance released anywhere between 3 and 4 months later and this time the panel consisted of strong women politico that finally considered placing the nomenclature to bare minimal and shifting the focus from animal cruelty to the inhumanity of man ergo naming the butcher - The Butcher.

And they say women are still to be liberated. First they take my cold cuts, now they call the poor guy a butcher.

Family discovers that Titty Boben Jacob Elias Kuruvilla turned *ssshhh* (whispers) gay.

Mone', mon'ke nalle vayis ayitundullo
Kalyannum pollum kazichitilla idhuvere.
Oru nalle cherukanne nammil kandu vechitu ondu.
Vellya manas aa avande, vellya kakoos'um.

Son, you're getting old,
and you're not even married.
We've found a good match for you.
He's got a big heart and big closet.