This is why March is known for it's madness!

I wanted a breather from the 'hectic' life I have at home so I went back to my favourite hilly town again. I was expecting great weather, good food, a small number of people and a bookstore which I could spend hours at.

Either nothing was as I left it last time or my memory is hazier than the storylines of Lost.

The weather was like Drew Barrymore's career, good in some parts but really crappy overall.

The food was worse than Julia Robert's choice in men. The espresso bar I used to frequent earlier was dead and gone, replaced by a shop for some stupid clothing chain. God-damn capitalists with their need for maximum profit!

There were more people there than the number of Jennifer Aniston's ex-boyfriends. I went there because it was March and I thought people would be busy with their stupid children's stupid exams and that people would be busy in doing one of those job things which though sound really awful, seem to be the in thing these days. However, apparently, everyone had their stupid exams in February and those job things come with something called 'vacation time' now. Whatever happened to exploiting your workforce? Everyone seems to have turned into a god-damn socialist!

And don't even get me started on the bookstore. The probability of me going back to that bookstore is even smaller than the chance of J. Lo having a successful comeback. All the books were stacked together like common pieces of merchandise. How can anyone enjoy shopping for books when they are presented to you like they present a large number of probable child brides to rich, horny old men in small Indian villages? Where is the romance in that?

On top of that, the owner of the bookshop had the temerity to recommend to me a book whose exact tag line was "It's like the Da Vince Code . . . only better!!!" [sic]. He didn't notice, but I ended up putting a curse on him. Read all about it in the new thrilling future bestseller The dreaded curse of the combustible Homo, in a book store near you  early May 2035 - It's like the Da Vince Code and The Secret got together and had a baby!!!

Another thing which bothered me was that since it was the off-season for the hilly town, everyone was using this opportunity to get their shitty hell holes re-painted which made all my allergies act up.

To make it worse, the one route I loved to walk on, because of it's solitary nature, was now dotted with more hotels and those infernal tea-shops for the poors, who seem to find their way into every place. If they really have no money, what are they doing at a hilly town?

If I said anything to anyone, they would tell me that it's nice of me to get out of my 'comfort zone' and I should give it a couple of days. What does that even mean? Why would anyone like to get out of their 'comfort zone'? Don't people spend their whole life trying to find a freaking comfort zone? So why fix something which ain't broke? I think it's just one of those things that people say which they really do not mean. Like "Of course this plus-sized t-shirt doesn't make you look fat" or "Just because you slept with him on the first date doesn't mean he thinks you're a slut".

I felt the same mixture of anger and disappointment which people feel when they realize that they have a crush on John Mayer.

I wondered what happened to this hilly-town? It was supposed to be my happy place (before I discovered Ryan Carnes). Nothing felt right. It seemed to be a metaphor for my life, where nothing felt right too. Just like me, the hilly town seemed to have lost it's mojo! It was also probably spending it's time brooding in it's room, listening to Speechless while eating chicken from it's nearest KFC.

So I stood there one day, on the balcony of my room, high on benadryl and paint fumes, thinking of packing up and leaving the next day. Just then, a family friend who sort of lives nearby the hotel I was staying in, came knocking. He had heard about the terrible time I was having and he promised me that he would make it up to me. Since I was not in my senses (more than usual), I agreed to join him for a ride after lunch. Mostly because he did not use the words "comfort" and "zone". Smart man.

And it turned out to be one of my better decisions! Even better than the time when as a five year old, I kicked a stranger offering me ice cream right in the cajones. Yes, I am smart like that, sometimes. Very rare times, in fact.

So the family friend took to me to a part of the hilly town that I haven't ever seen, even though I had been visiting the place for almost two decades. And that place had the most amazing view ever! It was one of the best scenes I have ever laid my eyes on. I had begun to think that just like a straight Jonas brother, such a view would be impossible to find! But I was wrong! (Still right about the Jonas brothers though! They're probably gayer than a Saturday night at Elton John's house!)

Then we went to a bookshop where I found the book that I had been wanting to read since a long time. We ended our sojourn at a place which serves the most amazing waffles I've ever had, which were accompanied by a delectable cup of coffee.

I did everything I wanted to do in a span of two hours! And then, just like Chris Brown before the grammy's, it hit me. At about 8000 feet above the sea level I realized that life was trying to send me a message in it's own effed up way. That even if you get old & derelict like Madonna and end up losing your way every now and then, somehow, someway you will find something new and surprising inside of you. Even if it is a guy whose name is pronounced as Haysoos.

Maybe it was imaginary, like Sarah Palin's high school diploma, and maybe it's a little to self-helpy when I think about it, but at least I got out of my comfort zone!

Shouldn't that count for something?

Is that a banana in your pocket or are you really happy to see me?

So I enter this espresso bar, grab a table, sit, take out my laptop, pretend not to notice anyone else, actually not notice anyone else, order my caffe poison, put on some music and start typing/browsing.

Then, as luck would have it, I accidentally notice that a smart, almost-hunk is on the opposite table is checking me out. I pinch myself three times to ensure that this is not the usual nightmare where the hunk turns into godzilla and starts eating me up. Once I confirmed that it was in fact reality, I proceed to process the information.

Is he for real? Is he really checking me out or just looking at me so as to make jokes with his friends? Not that I really care. Is he one of them wonderfully big-hearted chubby chasers I keep hearing about? Does this mean that there IS a God? Does my hair look good? Who am I kidding? My hair always looks good.

Then he started to smile.

I put on my best I-may-be-fat-on-the-outside-but-let's-pretend-I-have-a-personality-on-the-inside face so as to enable him to fall in love with me.

Anyways, he keeps looking and smiling and I keep getting more and more conscious. I even almost drop my cup of java.

Then his friend, who had her back towards me looks at me and says something to me. I guess that she is his fag hag and was just approving me. After all, I had just the right expression on my face.

So she turns towards me and asks me politely

Fag Hag: Excuse me, what song is that?

Me: Which song?

Fag Hag (a little taken aback): ..ummm... The one you are listening to ...

Me (snapping out of planning my first date with the almost-hunk): Oh..,that

Me: It's .... (forgetting name of song ) ...

Me: *long pause* .. How to save a life by The Fray....

Fag Hag (smiling): ... Cool ... Thank You ....

Me: That's quite alright ...

Me (inner voice): Quite alright? What are you? A 1896 homosexual or a log cabin republican? Couldn't you say, that's okay or no problem .... Are you kidding me with this shit? .... Who forgets the name of the song? ... You fucking listen to it a gazillion times a day ... you moron .. you'll never have a boyfriend ....

Fag Hag: My friend here likes the song ....

Me: He has good choice in music .... hahaha (--> the i-love-him-laugh)

Me (inner voice): Why are you so fucking lame? Seriously, since when did you turn shy? Is that even a joke.... No, dumbass ... that is why no one's laughing ... and you don't count pinhead ....


I play the song again. The almost-hunk smiles again.

Then it happened.

Both of them got up. The fag hag looked in my direction. She smiled.

Then, the almost-hunk wears dark black shades, picks up his walking stick from under the table and both of them head out.

The almost hunk was BLIND.

Yes. Someone who couldn't SEE.

He was visually challenged.

So he was not checking me out, the moron was doing some fucking eye exercises.


Whoever runs this bloody planet is a really big frikin tease.



Now please excuse me while I go make fun of people who don't have much going on in their lives.



Anyone who points out the irony is going to have one big fat lip. Men or women. I don't discriminate.

My own private Idaho

So I'm not dead yet. On the outside anyway. I died on the inside a few years ago, when I found out that John Cena has a girlfriend.

Anyway, I'm away from home at this mountain retreat. Sort of needed a break. "A break from what?" some of you may asked each other, in a hushed tone. Good question, however, history teaches us that some questions are better left unanswered. Like Who killed Peter Pan? and Why did the chicken cross he road?

So this hilly town I am in just has the basic bare necessities one needs to survive in the world. Like an alcohol bar, two espresso bars, a bookshop, a baskin robins, two pizzerias, and an out of this world bakery. It's safe to say I'm roughing it. I mean the hotel only has basic cable and no satellite TV. That's equivalent to camping in the wild or trying to climb Mt Everest.

And this place always has a strange effect on me. It's like Bizzaro world up here. I do unusual things like walking for fun and pouring my own glass of water. I even almost smiled to someone. Also, when the reception gave me a wake up call, which I had not asked for, I actually did not beat them up within an inch of their life and did not even have Satan confisicate their souls for the next three eternities.

Another weird thing I've seen is that ugly people only mate with other ugly people and good looking people only mate with other good looking people. There are very few people who really stand out as a "What-the-fuck-is-behind-nose-no-1 and Oh-fuck-look-at-that-ass" couple.

Which is both a good thing and a bad thing. Good thing is that I might have a chance and bad thing is that he would be as ugly as me, which means I'm going to die alone, because I would certainly not date me. I have standards, ya'know.

Maybe I should look into this "wife" thing. If I am going down, I'm taking some poor, unsuspecting, soul with me. Or at the very least I will have someone to polish my shoes when other help is busy. You can never have too much help these days.

Anyyywayyy, I still like it here. The weather is nice and most of the employees at the hotel I'm staying in have the same name. In fact, it's common to almost all service employees. Everyone answers to "Excuse Me". How very thoughtful of the tourism department. That's called putting your customer first. When you don't need to know the names of people who bring your morning cuppa tea or serve you dinner. That's what keeps bringing me back here everytime. That and the fact that I can ignore almost everyone here and not give an excuse.

If only there was a Gay bar here somewhere, this would be a perfect Paradise. Even the chicken crossed the road because there was a gay bar on the other side.