If Wishes Were Jessica Alba..

... I Would be Very, Very, Very Happy.

A Lister

Like most people worth their blog, I am publishing a list. Yes. But, of 10 words inspired by people this year.
These are completely my opinions. 
They do not reflect any organization's beliefs. Nor my family's beliefs. 
Friends, maybe.


Here goeth, in no particular order -


Baba Ramdev, verb


meaning - to put your foot in your mouth, figuratively. Literal application provides bonus points.


usage - When she comes up to talk to him, Raj does a Baba Ramdev and ends up leaving quickly.

also: Thesaurus suggests Shilpa Shetty.
----

Bdutt, verb


meaning - compromise on integrity for some purpose and then defend it like a blind fool


usage - You wouldn't hesitate to go all Bdutt on me if I ever accused you of sleeping with her.

also: Can be used with CNN.
----

di Caprio, verb


meaning - to change so much over a period of time that people don't even believe it

usage - She has really pulled a di Caprio at that rehab center, even her parents find it difficult to recognize her.

----

Palinize, reverb


meaning - confusion leading to mixing words to create new words; also, to be generally stoopid.


usage - She Palinized the essay by writing that the crowd should maintain dequorum.

----

Digvijing, verb


meaning - theorize conspiracies and have a chronic habit of spreading lies


usage - She is so good at Digvijjing that she made her boyfriend think it was like his fault and all.

also - The word seems to be related to Kalmadify.
----

Walesian, adjective


meaning - to mount an overtly aggressive campaign while putting up a passive public face


usage - This new cellular company has decided to launch a Walesian ad strategy to beg for subscribers.

also - Yahoo! could be used as a swear-word in such sentences.
----

Holbrooke, noun

meaning - find a solution for long standing tedious problems

usage - That old IT head is a regular Holbrooke. Pity to see him retire.

also - see Obamanate, claim great credit for doing virtually nothing.
----


Sonia, noun


meaning - say the right words but not mean anything


usage - He speaks like a Sonia. Just saying the right hollow words, without any real substance.


also - see Manmohan.
----

Assanged, verb

meaning - prosecuted for something when you are actually meant to be prosecuted for something else

usage - My friend totally got Assanged; was stealing paper from work for a long time, but he got busted last 

week while whisking a stapler.

also - Assange, noun: to look like a Bond villain.

----

Saching, ?

meaning - make small values or incidents into epic events of epicness; be generally great at something

usage - The marketing head is really good at Saching the numbers.

----

That is it from me.

I got something wrong? You got something else? Something you wanna confess? Something you wanna curse? Drop a comment. I promise not to bite. 

The Internet Rules III - Top 00001010

10 of the most noteworthy incidents on the Internet from this past year. 2010 has been very interesting.

If you’re an avid Web user, you are bound to recognize several of them.

Let’s get started. Each event has a link associated with it. Click to learn more.

Wikipedia’s Jimmy Wales #facepalm #fail campaign

WordPress.com’s big-blog crash

Google's privacy bloopers

China Vs. the Internet

Twitter’s Whale worries

Facebook’s movie

BPGlobalPR

Paypal’s problems

Tumblr’s tumble

The Wikileaks drama is without a doubt the Internet incident of the year.

Hopefully 2011 will be a less eventful year, but I wouldn’t count on it.

A Very Dexter-ish Xmas

These are all my wishes/ These are all my dreams.
Treat them right/ Or I will have to wrap you up.... *tight*
:[

A TO Z

LARGER VERSION

I had time. The idea was germinating for quite some time now. It didn't take long. But I am not much of a videogame enthusiast.
Picked Meraj and Nishant's fertile, idle brains and manufactured this.

Identify the alphabet and drop it in the comments.

The Internet Rules II - Facts

This blog post is brought to you by Jesus H. Christ. You can find him here.


"You can't handle the truth!" As Jack Nicholson shouts, rather loudly, in A Few Good Men.

Facts. They are everywhere. Either You hate them or you barely tolerate them. No one really likes them. Contrary to popular belief, the internet is not just a bundle of lies. It is not even this box.
It has facts strewn all over the place. Only a troll knows, where to find them.

Before I start sounding like Charlie Sheen at an open-bar gala, I'll let the Facts speak for themselves.

#1. The Week - It has always been like this.

#2. Doom - Still Awesome

#3. Posturing - On the Internet, it can get you a few lols.

#4. People - They Suck. Bottomline

#5. Minds - They are pretty predictable. Or so my mind *must* be thinking

Have You Been Bogging Lately?

More like Why Aren't You BOGGING? 

 How can you become a better Bogger? <I actually mean the equivalent of ''a person who bugs'' but I cannot use the word for obvious reasons>

1. Use a catchy title.
Make the title unique, consider using questions and lists.
Like ''79 ways to be nothing but an annoying nuisance on the Internet''

2. Use interesting visuals.
Include an image or video in your blog. This will get people’s attention and help them better understand the content of your blog. Like this one

3. Include links. Links add depth and credibility to your articles and allow you to show a little ‘link love’.

4. Use bullets, italians, and bold font. This makes for an easier read. Using bold font allows the reader to quickly scan your post.  

• And nothing says in your face better than BOLD FONT

5. Let your personality come through. This is what makes your blog unique. :[

6. Make blogs short, otherwise your reader might take one look at your post and bolt. If you choose to make your blog post long, consider breaking your blog into parts or use bold font to highlight the main points of the blog.
Short & fun like James Joyce' Ulysses.

7. Reference your articles. If you use other people’s work, include a reference or link to their article.
I plagiarized this whole thing from here.

8. Be interesting and have fun. LOL.

9. Encourage comments. Engage your reader and develop a relationship with them. This can be as simple as ending your post with a question.

10. Be bold. This might take the form of being outrageous or controversial. I hate MJ.

11. Post tags. This will help your readers find you.

12. Respond to comments as soon as possible. Treat your reader like a friend.
If your friend calls you and leaves a message, do you wait days to respond? YES, I DO

13. Make your blog post easy to share. This may include adding widgets such as Tweet, Reddit, Delicious, Stumble Upon, etc. Clog up someone else's news stream for a change.
Ridiculously small buttons with colors and a teeny letter.

14. Post frequently.

15. Promote your blog. This involves posting your posts to bookmarking sites, such as Stumble Upon and Delicious. Use Facebook and Twitter or other virtual communities such as LinkedIn and Craigslist (really?).

Dear reader, what other social ostracism have you been subject to?

The Internet Rules I - Characters

Recent attempts at being funny have been well-received. By Martians & residents of Middle Earth, the society next door. It is actually a colony for miners.
Before these jokes go even more downhill, let us go meet the contenders for internet pic of the week.

This blog post is brought for ye gentle lads, from the cavernous pits of the Internet, by Captain Haddock. You can say thanks here.

A brief intro- These unsung heroes need their due. The internet might love Leo, Cats or Gaga but I love these. So, give it up for..

#1. R2D2: The single most important character in the Star Wars saga. Yes, even more so than Darth Vader or Bobba Fett.

#2. Strong Sad: Epitomises my philosophy on most days of the calender. This however does not apply on Leap year years.

#3. Gordon Freeman: Half-Life.While we have Cybernetic Super soldiers, Silent assassins & Mythic warriors as protagonists, this man perseveres for Science.

#4. Marvin the Paranoid Android: Hums Pink Floyd's Shine on You Crazy Diamond when depressed. Very cool. I'll miss him.

#5. Alastor Moody: What can I say? The bad-ass-est character from the Harry Potter series. Usually friendly but can turn you into a ferret.

Week-a-pedia

Truth is for suckers, Johnny boy

Charlie Sheen as Charlie Sheen in Being John Malkovich.
I guess he is finding out now. Get your act together, man!

I saw Being John Malkovich. If you think Inception is cool, Being John Malkovich is a definite recommendation. It does not have the snazzy story-telling, the flawless action sequences and the mind-numbing tension. In fact, it does not need all those.
After watching it, my head is no longer the safe place I thought it was.

Samhain is a Gaelic festival held on October 31–November 1. The Irish name Samhain is derived from Old Irish and means roughly "summer's end". The West usually calls it Halloween.

Google has put up a Halloween themed doodle or it will soon. This brings me to my favourite Halloween themed picture ever.

Antonio Lucio Vivaldi , was an Italian Baroque composer, priest, and virtuoso violinist, born in Venice. His best known work is a series of violin concertos known as The Four Seasons. I heard it today. I have been enlightened.

I ran into a couple of older Doods, at a xerox place. They had week-old beards, cigarettes idly lounging between their lips, making xerox copies of classical sheet music to play on guitars and basking in a peculiar air of 'coolness'.
I was xeroxing a final year project report.

I asked one of the guys(or was it uncle?) what they were doing with the sheet music. He said 'We are taking xeroxes'. Never felt more lame.

Finally, in my project presentation I was asked ''Why your product?''
I replied with Thomas L. Friedman's classic quote

The only reason for a new product is to make people's lives more productive, more comfortable or more fun

She said, ''This is not the right time to use a quote''.

Oh, hum. College profs- can't live with them, can't bear them.

i, zombie

They say when the day comes, the dead shall rise from their graves and walk the earth
I say that the day has passed us by; For are we not all dead?

I go to work, pleased at what a big man i am; Scorn for the beggar who soils my trousers at the junction
I like it when she falls and hurts her knee; I love it when I trip her in the rush

I know no emotion, I see no pain
We move on like happy dead men

Content in our vacant lives; Observing all with our empty eyes, seeing none
The laughter of an innocent child, the call of the wild mean nothing to me

I get home, I wash my hands
Get rid of all human contact, glue in to the network

The man died on the street; I am happy my shirt is clean
The woman was bereft in her sorrow, I m just glad for more money tomorrow

Inside me lies a forlorn kid seeking for approval, looking for a nod of assurance
Encased in my hollow shell of morality; i seek solace in mortality

We talk of killing all the time, while time kills us all the time; softly, gently, ravenously
Next morning I wake up; mumble and stumble out of bed,

unshaven, bloodshot eyes, phlegmatic; scared the kid says "he, zombie"

10 Signs that You Are a Douchebag. Yes, You!

1. You spend most of your time online correcting spelling errors without ever contributing anything substantive to the conversation.

2. You ask for the 'manager' when you realize the 8Rs. vada pav you ordered has a hair in it.

3. The hair in the aforementioned vada pav is your own. You owe your luxuriant locks to the latest fad in the cosmetic industry.

3. You comment on Facebook status updates before reading the entire post. And you always begin comments with LOL.

4. You keep complaining about how there is nothing to watch on TV, yet the only programs you do watch are CID and Rahul ka Swayamvar.

5. You are Rahul.

6. You are on TV. The Lead in the latest Saas Bahu cryathon.

7. You wear sunglasses indoors, and at night.

8. You drive a Phorun car but never have enough money to get a full tank of gas. 

9. There is no room in your Phorun car because it is full of speakers. And these speakers drive the car by creating eardrum shattering resonant vibrations.

10. And when your speakers do this, Your neck moves back and forth & You go 'dhup-chik dhupchik dhup-chik..'

Pic ME!

''No man is an island, Entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. '' - John Donne

A very interesting observation that one.

Especially in context of ''life'' today. Or more correctly social life. The presence of this technological ether all around us has been criticized by many. They have their arguments, some of which include lack of human contact, kids changing into couch potatoes and so on.

I believe no one really cares enough anyway. The need to socialize is ingrained in most individuals in a society. This need also tends to manifest itself with the urge to express oneself.

What better to do so than with photography?
There is a very famous and oft quoted Chinese proverb that says, 'A picture speaks a thousand words.'
SO true.

Apart from a few notable exceptions, almost everyone you know has a phone. And what better way to express yourself than clicking your way through mundane life with your trusty mobile camera alongside you.
Granted, you don't have much options in the tech department. What with scratchy lenses, inappropriate resolutions and in general suckiness of cell phone cams, it is no wonder that the expressionists are befuddled.

Amidst this backdrop, Tata DOCOMO has launched Alcatel OneTouch Net phone to help you share life as you live it. With its 2MP camera and social networking features, it allows you to express yourself. And that too real quick. So, go and grab your chance.

After all, a picture taken with this phone speaks two hundred thousand words.

Evolution, My Appendix!

Computers are useless. They can only give you answers.
         - Pablo Picasso, Spanish Cubist painter (1881 - 1973)

What does Picasso know? The guy used to draw cubes, for God’s sake.

The technology I wished existed is the one which would help a tech-novice like me to understand all the existing technology. Make life simpler, because all this technology is sure not doing that!

Just the other day I was watching this movie about some megalomaniac who had parenting issues or something on those lines. Suddenly, I hear a ringtone to the tune of some Gujarati folk song blaring from a seat, ahead of me. Now I believe there is a very special place for those who sin, called Hell. However, a very special part of this Hell is reserved for those people who talk in theatres during movies. Even worse the man who looked like he might have been a resident of Alibaug didn’t answer the phone.

Instead he clipped on this body-part shaped headset thingie and talked through it, in a grating voice and very disturbing language. I found out later that this is a new liberal technology called Bluetooth, where a phone can transfer data without a wire. If your phone is internet enabled, you can even use it as a modem and use your new ultra mobile PC to connect to the Internet. Is this ridiculous, or what?

Even more ridiculous?  These computers have been made small enough to actually fit in your pockets. Get this: some actually write on these computers with a pen!

Ten years ago, nobody even thought about writing notes on a mini-sized computer. They used something called pencil and paper! These new mini-computers run an operating system called Windows, probably developed by illegal immigrants from Bangladesh or some such place (I hear they have BPO’s in Dharavi). With these mini-computers, students and adults can play video games instead of studying or actually working. If you are a CEO and think a client is taking notes on his little computer, you may be surprised to find out he is playing Snake instead.


I can never forget the day when my family got our first color television set. The whole neighborhood gathered at our working-class house, where we could watch the latest family-oriented shows like Shriman Shrimati. These days they all watch such immoral shows like Desperate Housewives, South Park, and Rakhi ka Swayamvaar. There is even some marketing scam called "high-def TV."

Do you remember the good old days, when home computers could be used for word processing, study, and even communication between family members?

Now, kids use them to download porn and hip-hop music, which leads to the downgrade of our society. They say it will better help students “organize.” I say this is just an excuse to help dumb down our education system. (More?) Whatever happened to the good old assignments? All Engineers are made by assignments and not by Practical or any other sort of experience. (Not even the weed one). Whatever happened to teachers writing the homework assignment on the board? Don’t get me wrong; I like technology. I somehow feel guilty being a part of the dumbing down of India.

But then We Are Like That Only, No?

Montague Dartie's Business Card

From ghoulies and ghosties, And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
I'll deliver to ya, Call me (number's on the back)
The name's Montague Dartie, 'tis short for Dartie
I am the One you want if ya wanna Party
With wild, dirty Hags and mean, old Banshees

I am good with them kelpies and hobgoblins,
And I am better with pixies and tod-lowries.
If it is a haunting that you want I am your man,
Professional to the very rotten core I am,

Nixies at discounts, Ghosts for free
Leprechauns in Six Packs, Someone get me a Headless Mummy
And If you will take that Fantasm, I will pay you.
Really!

Gallytrots and Imps
Bogies and Nicknevins
Clabbernappers and Corpse lights
Redmen and Whitewomen
You name it and I got it
But take care lest you name the Nameless One,
You might end up losing your soul.

Old relatives refusing to move, Rich ones whom you want ta knock off
Scare the bejeezus out of a Friend or trick a Girl into hugging you out of fear
(Love potions for Girls at Granger & Associates at Reasonable Rates);

All jobs done, but Payment up front
I don't want no monies, I deal in Memories
The Hob pays a lot for those and he pays in Fairy Gold

Try not to feed the Workers and please,
Please don't tell them about labour laws & Unions
Satisfaction guaranteed, and be sure to read the Fine Print
Or you never know what might lurk behind,
Hiding in plain Sight
Waiting for a chance to rip your throat out
Or just looking for a spirit's night out

Lizards

We run a race everyday; winning what?
Look out the window of a speeding car; feeling nought
We are blind in love, deaf in anger, dumb in awe
We trust; send smoke signals in the season of mists
In the end, all we are is
Lizards in the rain

We talk through wires and waves and mechanical slaves
We do not cherish life any more; we create it
Trust the sandman no more; all we need is amytal
Look for answers no more; worshiping a god digital
Does this not make us seem like
Lizards on top of a train

We believe in a god and fight in the name
Never for a moment thinking of understanding the game
We behave like monkeys fresh off the tree
Never realising that they are the ones truly free
After all, are we not all
Lizards with peanuts for brains

For The Beautiful Minds

"No. Paradise Lost lacked the substructure of pessimism." She said.

This is just one gem by Woody Allen, from his NY Times bestseller.

The whole story deals with the possibility of intellectual prostitution. I must admit the idea is very alluring.

In this age of social networking, where does one get a decent conversation that is not peppered with idiotic abbreviations. Plus, the idea of two redheads explaining Proust is very, very tempting.

Imagine a custom made conversation that aims to provide intellectual stimulation. A tailor made talk between two people that titillates your mind. The topic of discussion can be varied. The genres diverse. Start of with a brief exposition of Macbeth, a study of the symbolism in Moby Dick, light banter about the merits of democracy and round it of with a discussion on the music of Dire Straits.

This is just an example. The possibilities are limitless. The conversations endless.
One might argue that the hunger for knowledge might be sated through the internet. This might be true due to the omniscient Google, but still it does not provide the modicum of humanity that the above method does. Plus, there is no guarantee that you will get satisfaction of any sort after reading it off the Net. Talking with friends is definitely not the same because of the emotional angle. Internet based discussions usually end up becoming flame wars and breeding grounds for smart alec types.
Man is ,after all, no island. More like a peninsula, probably.

And there is the slight chance that you might find someone who knows that J.R.R. Tolkien & Philip Pullman are better authors than J.K. Rowling.

{for the concerned, Woody Allen's story is named 'The Whore of Mensa'}

One Crazy Thing

A friend of mine recently asked me if there was one crazy thing in my life that I wanted to do. I was sitting on a balcony. I gave her a stock reply saying there was no such thing. Frankly, I am in the business of looking smart. There was nothing else I could have said. Well, actually I did say something.

I gave away my real answer by looking at the ledge for the briefest instance.

The craziest thing I have ever wanted to do – was jump from that ledge, 4 floors above the ground. It seems crazy in most human senses. All I wanted was to feel the soft, sweet wind kissing me gently, leaving them tousled, moving towards the Earth to rest in her loving embrace. An embrace that has such a finality that there is no adjective to describe it other than dead. And then there is death herself. Cold as a ice, waiting like a temptress. Indeed, alluring to some.

Man’s fixation with the Lady in Black is legendary. Many great literary works and artistic endeavours have been inspired by The Great Unknown. Be it John Donne’s timeless Divine Sonnet X that boldly drags Death from its pedestal to Longfellow’s The Reaper and the Flowers that tries optimism.  Death inspired In Memoriam by Tennyson, one of the finest pieces of English literature of times bygone. More recently, W.H. Auden produced ‘Funeral Blues’, one of the contemporary classics and my personal favourite. Another interesting poem is The Ballade of Suicide by G.K. Chesterton which takes a rather unconventional view to Death.

Death fascinates us. The idea of an unknown surely must tempt people (or is it just me?). We fear it. Most of us do. Death can have a pretty polarizing effect on people. Admittedly, I haven’t seen my share of the world as yet. But, I have had three light brushes. Not entirely satisfying for forming impressions. After all isn’t it just another experience? The fact that it is invariably the last one adds to the allure.

On November 22, 1963, along with Aldous Huxley, John F. Kennedy and C. S. Lewis arrived at the end of their life. The only reason for the euphemism is what Lewis said regarding Death.

Personally, I admire Aldous Huxley. On his deathbed, unable to speak, Huxley made a written request to his wife for "LSD, 100 µg, intramuscular".

He famously said once, “A belief in hell and the knowledge that every ambition is doomed to frustration at the hands of a skeleton have never prevented the majority of human beings from behaving as though death were no more than an unfounded rumor”.

“If we really think that home is elsewhere and that this life is a ''wandering to find home,'' why should we not look forward to the arrival?”

Both the above quotes capture humankind’s general attitude towards Death – to get over it believing that there is better to come.

But the third guy, John F. Kennedy, said it better, “The courage of life is often a less dramatic spectacle than the courage of the final moment; but it is no less a magnificent mixture of triumph and tragedy”.

There are many more experiences to be had. Many more crazy things to do. Miles to go before I slip on some banana peel.

Maybe, I won’t go over the ledge, after all.

Top 10 lists - You Know A Wizard

Top ten signs You Know A Wizard -

10. He does not normally enter a room through the door.

9. You say,"Do you think your assignments are going to write themselves?" and then They DO.

8. He gets busted 'prospecting' for snowy owls.

7. Has the word 'lumos' written under the light switch

6. His favorite excuse is that "his hippogriff ate his assignment".

5. Everytime he walks into an electronic store, the toaster tries to mount the oven.

4. He collects plugs.

3. He loves talking to friends on the 'fellytone'.

2. He wears shiny red satin robes - Let's just hope he is just a wizard.

1. You hear him talk about polishing his wand in the bathroom.

The Rhyme of The Hill Witch

If you come to our village, I hope you Don’t get eaten by the Hill Witch

She lives just yonder the foliage; Oh you don't want to hear about the Evil Bitch,

She has prodigious strength And the speed of a Gazelle

She has zero style but Imports cosmetics from Brazil

My Nanna, saw her once taking away a boy who wouldn’t eat his Vegetables

She changed him to a horse and kept him in her Stables,

She’s a shriveled crone, 1000 years old One look turns you to Stone

Then she gorges on your living brain; Through the Bone

She lives in the crooked tree on the hill and has a pet Bear

She might be ugly but she wears a Versace gown the ladies Swear

She once happened to change a Woman into a Cow

Her husband said Not much of a Change, Anyhow

She flies on her skeleton broom, Grinning like a Goblin

And she walks on her stump toes, Cloppin an' Hobblin

She makes a mean unicorn soup And loves a Gremlayn Stew

But what she really craves for is some cold Mountain Dew

Now you take care intrepid wanderer, you may think me Silly

But over this road lies the path that crosses the witch Hilly,

She is on a Diet the village folk Says

Don't stray Or you might see the End of Days.

Top 10 lists - I Want To Go To There

#1: Bombay Duck
 
The Bombay duck or bummalo (Marathi: bombil) is, despite its name, not a duck but a fish. It is native to the waters between Mumbai (formerly Bombay) and Kutch in the Arabian Sea, and a small number are also found in the Bay of Bengal.

The story goes that the train compartments of the Bombay Dak (in English, the Bombay Mail) would smell of the fish, consequently leading the British to euphemistically refer to the peculiar smell as the "Bombay Dak".

#2: Marathon

After defeating the Persians at the battle of Marathon, a town in southern Greece, the Athenians sent a messenger to run the 25 miles back home.
According to legend, he delivered the news and then dropped dead.

Marathons became 26 miles, 385 yards at the 1908 Games in London when extra yards were added so the race would finish in front of the royal box.


#3: Bungalow

A bungalow is a type of single-story house that originated in India.
The word derives from the Gujarati બંગલો baṅgalo, which in turn derives from the Hindi  बंगला baṅglā, meaning "Bengali" and used elliptically for a "house in the Bengal style". 

Such houses were traditionally small, only one story and thatched, and had a wide veranda.

#4: Sodomy

For the sins of their inhabitants Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah and Zeboim were destroyed by "brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven."

The story has therefore given rise to words in several languages, including the English word "sodomy," a term used today predominantly in law (derived from traditional Christian usage) to describe non-vaginal intercourse, as well as bestiality, and homosexuality.


#5: Tequila

Developed in Mexico in the 16th century, this was probably the first distilled alcoholic beverage created in North America.
It's made from the fermented juice of the Mexican agave plant.

Some of the best was – and still is – made in the town of Tequila

#6: Mocha

What would urban existence be without café mocha? It is typically one third espresso  and two thirds steamed milk, but a portion of chocolate  is added, typically in the form of sweet cocoa powder, although many varieties use chocolate syrup.

Café mocha takes its name from the Red Sea coastal town of Mocha, Yemen, which as far back as the fifteenth century was a dominant exporter of coffee, especially to areas around the Arabian Peninsula.

#7: Glasgow Smile

A Glasgow smile (also known as a Glasgow grin, Anna grin, Chelsea grin or Chelsea smile) is a nickname for the result of cutting a victim's face from the edges of the mouth to the ears. The cut – and the scars it leaves – form an extension of what resembles a smile. The practice originated in the Scottish  city of Glasgow, which gave it its name.

The Batman villain Joker, Fight Club's narrator and Slipknot guitarist James Root are enthusiasts.

#8: Tuxedo

Sometimes called a "monkey suit," its origins involve the wolf. Here's why:
In the 1880s the village of Tuxedo Park, about 50 miles north of Manhattan, became a popular resort. It was here that some young men, disregarding the fashion of the day, began to wear dinner jackets without tails.

The new style was soon called the tuxedo.
And the name of the town? It comes from a Native American word meaning wolf.

#9: Bikini

In July 1946, the United States detonated two nuclear bombs at the Bikini atoll, an island in the South Pacific, which of course was big news around the world.
A year later, a French fashion designer introduced a scanty two-piece bathing suit and named it the bikini.

Unable to find a model immodest enough to wear it, he debuted it on a stripper – and it too became big news.

#10: Lesbian

Originally, lesbian simply meant "from Lesbos," the Greek island pictured here.

Its current sense comes from the ancient poet Sappho, who lived on Lesbos around 600 BC and wrote poems that dealt with the relationships – sometimes passionate – between women.

Love In The Weather

They met in the summer of '99
She used to be lead on channel 9,
Old he looked; living through pain
It looked like it was going to rain

She was sitting on a park bench
One look was all it took for him to say:

You are like the westerlies; strong and beautiful
You breeze through like a cyclone subtropical,
When I saw you first it hit me like a ball of lightning
I had fallen in love, the realisation dawning

Wat say you, wanna grab a cup of coffee?

She looked at him without a smile and said:
Good sir, what is this farce? I don't even know you
Look at me and then look at you,
You are July and I am May
What then do you expect me to say?

She got up and walked away,
But He stood his ground
and recited from memory -

I'll want you 'til there's no arctic ice
until places are flooded I'll be nice.

She stopped in her tracks, looked back
And said with a knowing smile,

Though sometimes fail my memory does
I think the first two lines are these,

I'll love you till 'tis cold in December
It's you i'll desire when cometh September,

I heard what the doctor said,
And darling i m not one bit afraid,
At the best of times, we may not be together
But the test of time, our love shall weather.

As I Am

Sometime back I was the in thing,
Now I am just another fling?
I am just a puppet on a lonely string,
Who would ever want me to be king?

Revolutionaries lie in wait
Hoping for my head on a plate,
They send arrows, poison and dart
Wanting to stop my beating heart,

A long time ago, I took the road of blood,
Grew in power thro, the strength of crowd,
I always knew this day would come,
After all am I not just human scum?

Trees looked, like armies from where I stand
One of them once, now judged for who I am
To those who comprehend, I extend my hand
To the doubtful I demand, take me as I am
To command rules to bend, from where I stand
To wake up free, take me as I am.

Top 10 lists - Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

#1: Haphephobia

What it is: A morbid fear of being touched.

Word history: Haptein is a Greek word that means to fasten (that is, to bring two things together).

Bonus points: Haptics is the English word for "a science concerned with the sense of touch," used in technologies like touch-screen displays that let users feel clicks.

#2: Doraphobia

What it is: The dread of touching the skin or fur of an animal.

Word history: The Greek word dora means "the skin or hide of an animal."

Bonus points: The root word dora comes from the Greek verb derein, meaning "to skin or to flay." This is also the source of derm, the Greek word for skin, which shows up in words like "dermatology".
   
#3: Eremophobia

What it is: The morbid dread of being alone.

Word history: The Greek word erēmia means desert (a place where there are no other people).

Bonus points: The word hermit shares the same Greek root, but a hermit may find solace rather than dread in solitude.

#4: Ergophobia

What it is: A fear of or aversion to work.

Word history: Ergon is the Greek word for work.

Bonus points: This word shows a family resemblance to the words ergonomic and ergometer.

#5: Hypnophobia

What it is: The morbid fear of sleep.

Word history: Hypnos is the Greek word for sleep.

Bonus points: Hypnotize is a word that shares the same Greek roots.

#6: Brontophobia

What it is: An abnormal fear of thunder.

Word history: Bronto is from the Greek word that means thunder.

Bonus points: The same root gives us the name of the brontosaurus (literally, "thunder lizard").

#7: Kakorrhaphiophobia
 
What it is: An abnormal fear of failure.

Word history: The Greek word kakorrhaphia means a clever or devious plot or plan, derived from kakos, meaning bad or evil.

Bonus points: The English word cacophony shares the same Greek roots.

#8: Coulrophobia

What it is: An abnormal fear of clowns.

Word history: Coulro- is Ancient Greek for 'one who goes on stilts'.

Bonus points: None.

#9: Taphephobia

What it is: Fear of being buried alive.

Word history: The Greek word taphē means burial or grave.

Bonus points: You can see the same Greek root in the English word epitaph (an inscription on a tomb).

#10: Phobophobia

What is is: An excessive fear of acquiring a phobia.

Word history: The Greek word phobos means "fear or flight."

Bonus points: When there's nothing left to fear but fear itself, this word is the perfect double whammy of the Greek word for fear.

Top 10 lists - Edward Cullen

Edward Cullen Top 10 -

The Pros :
1. incredibly gorgeous.
2. caring and protective.
3. has a sense of humor but is serious at all the right times
4. would rather have you leave him to be with another man if it was for your happiness.
5. would do anything to keep you safe.
6. gives you his most valuable keep sakes.
7. makes sure you know that you are all he thinks about and that he would find some way to die once you were gone.
8. lets face it, he is a vampire.
9. superhuman abilities and semi-immortal.
10. a girl's best friend, at least in the day

The Cons :
1. he is a bloodthirsty, bloodsucking vampire who might suddenly sink his fangs into you or your pet
2. he has been in high school for around 90 years, I mean how sad is that?
3. creepy - you might wake up one day in bed and find him staring at you
4. stone dead sense of humor - not punny at all
5. suicidal emo kid - might off himself if he thinks you kicked the bucket
6. he is pro-creationism, that should be reason enough
7. necrophilia
8. looks like a pencil through the heart might do him in
9. he is vegetarian
10. first time around, he was a hufflepuff student who got snuffed by lord voldemort

The Cult of Ugly

Veronica King lived in a bubble. 

She was one of the Beautiful People. The ones who make it to magazine covers, the ones who pout in front of cameras. The ones who kill and get away, the ones who smoke away in the mist. She also was a high school student. That made her a white shark in the social sea.
Veronica King was in most eyes, the epitome of teenage perfection. She had pretty high scores on most subjects, did ballet, was a pretty good gymnast and dated the Ape. Here, the Ape does not mean any abnormal fetish on the part of Ms King. The Ape was simply another jock on the school's football team; the only reason she was with him ,and not one of the others, was that he had made the transition from Tree to Earth.
Life was swell for Veronica King.
On the other end of this social spectrum was the smallest fry possible, Betty Madelle. She was neither beautiful nor was she a genius. She was just plain ordinary. It was almost as if she went out of her way to be so.

Ms King had a little problem. She could not understand the little hurdle in schooling called Algebra.
She had survived so far, but like all warriors destined to fall at the gates of Troy, Veronica had fallen.

"Is there no way, Mr. Thomas, to help me?", she said.
A casual observer might notice a teenager concerned about her grades. But Mr. Thomas was anything but casual. He was a seasoned player in this field and he was pretty sadistic.
"Miss King, Need I remind you how important is it that you get at least a B+ on your next paper?"

"I know, but it's just that- Betty girl, that you claim is a Math freak, she's plain ugly. I would rather die than be caught with her."
"Miss King. I have to take my wife to dinner out today. I don't have time for this. Jesus- ugly!- What's that got to do with anything? It's your problem Miss King and you better learn to deal with it."
The tone of finality was unmistakable. Veronica knew she had no choice.

Miss Madelle was present in the same room when this particular exchange occurred.
She had long before learned how to ignore. She did so again. However, Miss King never knew that word.
"So, Hi. Betty! You look good today."
"Cut the crap, King. What do you want?"
"It's good that you are direct, Betty. I like that. I need to learn Math. I don't know what you need and I don't really care. Still if there is something I can-"
"Party."
"What?"
"Party. I am having a party tomorrow night. Can you come as Guest of Honor?"
Veronica King was used to weird Betty. She even loved to hate gothic Betty. But friendly Betty threw her off balance. She wanted to say 'Are you crazy?'. All she said was, "I'd love to".
After all, she was a party animal.

The day of the party she called Miss Perfect-Bottom and Miss Cute-Lips. She even threw a biscuit or two to the Ape. 

Then she got ready to go.

Betty Madelle's house was pretty suburban. It had the All-American feel to it. There was no loud blaring music, no trashy girls hanging around and no cars.
That is pretty strange, thought Veronica.
A party without any of the above was no party at all.
The door was opened by another pretty ugly girl. This one had a whole gothic thing going on too. In fact, any place Miss King laid her eyes on all she saw was Gothic. And a lame-ass poster of some gothic band called The Cult of Ugly. 

Probably just as ugly as her.
Presently Betty came down from her room to greet Veronica.
At least that was what Veronica thought. Betty however went straight to another of her hag friends. They were discussing something oblivious to Miss King's existence. A fat, ugly kid called Joe was mentioned. A few snatches of conversation even mentioned Veronica as the Guest.
Veronica was ,like most of her people, very impatient. She barged in and dragged Betty away. Betty immediately resumed her friendly Betty act.

"Hey, Veronica when did you get here? You having fun. Grab a drink in the kitchen. I am busy playing host." said Betty with another sickly sweet smile that angered Veronica.
To hell with this I will just grab a drink and be off, she thought. The kitchen had only one bowl - rum punch.
Veronica King did not normally fall down to the level of punch. But there was something strangely intoxicating about this one. The smell, that is it. I will just drink a bit and scoot. Miss King filled a glass with punch and drank warily. She breathed in the smell and couldn't stop herself. She downed it in one gulp.
Then she remembered the smell. It was that hospital one...

Last thing she remembered was falling into the big, sweaty hands of Joe.
When she woke up, she was on a hard wooden bed of some sort. There was a sodium light overhead and she was surrounded by hooded people.
She tried to get up. The only thing she managed to do was breathe. She wasn't trussed but she still couldn't move. Then she remembered the smell and it all came back to her.
For the first time, in her charmed life, Veronica King understood what utter helplessness meant. True fear gripped her with cold, clammy hands. She opened her mouth to scream but found no sound escaping her. She heard one sound though.
She couldn't understand the sound.
It seemed familiar yet she couldn't recognize it.

Then Betty Madelle bent down till her ips were inches from Veronica's and said, "Hello, Veronica. Are you having fun? I know you don't like being among ugly people. Do not worry, we hate you as much. Thanks for coming to the party. I know you didn't tell anyone that you would be here. You wouldn't like that getting out, would you? Your secret is safe with me, Beautiful Miss Bitch. As you yourself said, 'You would rather die than be caught with me.'"

Veronica King thought she saw something glinting in the yellow light. A low throbbing sound pervaded her consciousness. Then she got it. They were chanting.

In unison, as one organism, the basement was full of hooded people chanting in a toneless, mesmerizing beat - The Cult of Ugly. The people moved in closer. Betty kissed Veronica.

The Cult members produced a crown. They anointed Veronica and named her their Queen. Veronica couldn't believe her luck. But she wasn't surprised for long. After all, she was one of them.

Them beautiful people. Safe in their own bubble.

C Be Not Proud

C be not proud, though some have called thee
haughty and awefull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overload,
Die not, poore C, nor yet canst thou bore me.
From threads and sleepe, which but thy pointers bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must stackoverflow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Inheritance, strings, and desperate men,
And dost with pointers, arrayes, and endian-nesse dwell,
And Java, or SQL can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And C shall be no more; C, thou shalt die.

For The Much Original And Very Worthy
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Death_be_not_proud

A Yarn That Rhymes : End

The End?

Alan McDonald returned that night, in a huff, to find his house in disarray and police on the premises. He moved into Billy's house with him. The blood in his nails was chicken.

Billy underwent psychotherapy and now works at the farm. He earns much more and can buy many green shirts.

The police found Miss Maple's remains. Forensic evidence pointed fingers at Andy Foster.

The Chief of Police had heard Foster bragging about the women in his life. They found a lot of evidence at Foster's house on the Hill. He also heard the bit about Foster saying Hello.
So he waited outside and shot him.

The Master bought a new pair of sheep. He has still not been seen in public.

The Good Doctor bled a lot but managed to escape by sticking his scalpel into Dumpty's thigh. He is still at large.

The Citizens are quite well. Each one of them had a theory and each one knew how rotten Foster really was.

Jack Horner is now well and not unhappy. He has stomach ulcers due to the drug. He now works at the Midtown Cafe. He is quite traumatized. Not due to the incidents.
But due to the poem he found in his coat pocket.

" Jack And Jill Went Up The Hill
  Jack fell down
  And Jill was killed
  By the Good Doctor "

A Yarn That Rhymes - 4

Chapter 4

Two Days after Billy's arrest Miss Maple went missing. She was last known to be delirious and fevered. She kept repeating 'He is guilty'. The cops at the Royal Hospital thought she meant Billy. They were so wrong.

...

People who knew Mr. Horner described him as either 'disturbed' or 'disturbing'. At that very moment, snooping around the McDonald farm, he was both.

He was hoping to find a way into Alan's basement. That was before he found a scented pink handkerchief with an embroidered MM on it. Miss Maple had come here. Possibly to talk. There were signs of struggle - heel marks in the soil, a very large stamp of Alan's workman shoes.

Now it was a necessity to investigate.

Jack found the back door unlocked and unbarred. To some this would have been a sign of danger. But for Jack Horner, it was an invitation. He entered carefully, treading softly like a cat. The room was empty. It was a post-Victorian looking room with a fireplace. The likes you find in old British movies.

There was a chestnut chair in front of the fire and sitting in it, to Jack's surprise was a large tabby cat. Jack was a cat person. Despite himself he bent over to pick it up and that was the last thing he remembered. His body froze and he dropped ike a pin.

...

Jack was trussed up like a turkey and hanging upside down in a corner. The room was definitely Alan's basement. The stench was unbearable.

A figure sat in the opposite corner.

"Is that you Alan? It's not too late, boy. I can help you. Where is Mary?"

"Little Jack Horner Sat in the corner. Do you know that rhyme Mr. Horner? I especially love it. A very apt choice at this very moment."

The voice was muffled but Jack could have known that voice anywhere.

"Andy? What are you doing? Where's Alan? Where's Mary?"

"Keep quiet Jack. Alan is not in this chapter. I sent him to Boscombe with a fake phone call. A phoney call, wouldn't you say-"

"Cut the crap Andy. What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I killed Miss Maple. Now it is your turn. Killing her was very easy. The girl was such a peach. I made her sit in that big chair up there. Told her I would confess to the murders for which Billy is being held. She just lapped it up like a silly cat. Then I slit her throat with my scalpel. Her head's in the freezer now. I like to eat brains to be cold."

Jack's only response to this was throwing up loudly.

"Aah! That must be due to the drug I injected. Won't kill you but it will make you so sick that you will beg me to kill you. Just like Jill."

"Don't you dare say her name you scumbag-" Jack couldn't get his string of expletives out because Doc Foster managed to gag him.

"Oh, Jack you were always so gullible. And dumb. You could never see what she was going through. She was pregnant. She came to me - her best friend. I di what I had to do. What was that? Don't mumble Jack. I can't hear you. Anyways, so I took her to my home on the hill. And killed her. I told you that she left. I wanted to spare you the pain, Jack. I care about you."

Andy Foster was busy talking but Jack had tensed up. He had heard something upstairs and It did not sound like a cat.Foster continued his monologue after removing the gag, "You know, how women always come to me Jack. I am such a good friend to them. So, when I saw Miss Maple one day, I took her. I screwed with her, in all possible ways, If you know what I mean."

"You were never good with jokes Andy. So just stop. Finish this while you are on top."

"Finish this! What do you mean Jack? I just got started. Please don't spoil the fun. So, as I was saying I enlisted Mary in my little project called "Get Jack A Job'. The rest was quite easy for a guy who can cut surgically and has a freezer at home. If only Mary hadn't gone soft-"

"So, what now Andy? How do you plan to kill me? Shoot, Cut or Inject?"

"Please, Jack don't shame me. I am a professional. One woman each year. All dead, waiting for you. Come to think of it. I even wrote a poem for you. Would you like to listen?"

"Entertain yourself, Andy."

"I like the attitude Jack. If your own heart does not get tired of pumping against gravity, I might as well let you go. Just Kidding! So, it goes like-"

was all Andy could manage to say before Chief Elijah Dumpty cracked him on the skull with an Oriental vase.

...

The Chief got Jack free and left him sitting in the chair. Jack was still paralyzed due to the drug. Dumpty went in search of Miss Maple's body and head.

The moment he went, the fallen Doctor stirred. He got up with a smug grin on his face. Jack opened his mouth to scream but found it stuffed with a gag.

"So, Jack looks like you won for the time being. I will just go say Hello to Humpty up there and be off. I will see you again next year."

Jack could do nothing but stare in horror as Andy Foster crept up the stairs. There was a gunshot and it was the last thing that Andy remembered before passing out.

...