Wasteful pursuits of an idle mind

Deepesh challenged me to this seemingly inane online game - Monkey Kick-Off. Sounds dumb, is dumb, but rather addictive - especially when someone challenges you, and you have nothing better to do but study.

Today I finally beat his score, so just had to go on record with this!!!

Beat that, buggers! (if you've got nothing better to do)

Evening glory

This is evening was unusually beautiful... Well, not unusually... Though the days have become blisteringly hot, with hot breeze blowing all day, the evenings are rather pleasant, and the sky is lit by the setting sun with myriad colours. I'm just not around in the evenings to see all that.

Nevertheless, I got a chance to go out today evening, and predictably so, my trusty camera was hanging by my side. It has been rather hot lately, and the clouds gathered today for a spot of light rain and some Evening Glory.

Tandem writing at its best!

This is one of the most hilarious stories I've EVER come across. I almost died laughing over this one... I got this some 4-5 years back, most probably over e-mail; so much so, that I can't even remember who sent it. Its a tandem writing exercise i.e. one person writes a paragraph, while the next one is written by another person.

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The

chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now

reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he

liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind

off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about

him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of

the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of   the attack squadron

now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about

than the  neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with

whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. " A.S. Harris to

Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar

orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could

sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a

hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him

flying out of his seat and across the  cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt

one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who

had ever  had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its

pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.

"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,"

Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously

excited her and bored her. She stared out the  window, dreaming of her

youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no

newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of

innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one

lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands

of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of

its  lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed

the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the   congress had

left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were

determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage

of the treaty the  Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying

enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop

them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion

missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his

top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the

coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized

poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My

writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose

attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I

have  chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA???

Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many

Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)

Asshole.

(Gary)

Bitch

(Rebecca)

F__K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary)

Go drink some tea - whore.

(TEACHER)

*A+ - I really liked this one.*

Manifestations of tension

The last week or so has been trying to say the least... and will be so till 31st March.

We have been working on the trot, without a break, and will do so till 31st March.

And the tension, fatigue and lack of sleep is manifesting itself in different ways in different people.

For my part, I am increasingly annoyed, frustrated and with a general frown on my face. At least, more than usual. Deepesh is getting crankier by the day, with enormous mood swings from affection (!) to hatred for the woman kind in my college. Vivek too is increasingly irritable, talks less and generally disappears from the usual haunts.

Some others are more subdued, others have begun plotting for the exams. Some other have become increasingly artificial, have been buttering the faculty way (!!!) more than usual, and are simply irritating to have around. Even with no CP, some people's mental acidity comes out as verbal diarrhoea in class!

"The days have gone down in the west... How did it come to this?"