Imaginary Children? A Queer Week Indeed.

Despite my constant complains of how the week drags by in slow-mo, I can not deny it had its bright moments. For Example: I got upgraded to the undergrad course of my choice! Yayzers! I was so worried at the prospect of studying economics and Business math since I’m sure I’d fail them. Numbers never liked me.  Also I got a chance to see my leeetle sis viciously headbang to embarrass me and then make herself sick afterwards.

Nikki sent me a couple of texts a mutual friend of ours sent her. Totes unethical behavior but best buds share everything.  We laughed and cried (with the funnies) at the absolutely ridiculous, bat crazy and disturbing messages of the said acquaintance where she explains what she and her fiance’ discuss over texts.

Before you could possibly try to imagine what it might be. I’m going to release  you from this mental exertion –  The friend and her fiance talk about their imaginary kids every day, their names and the shizz. They even ‘play’ with these adorable entities who don’t exist – yet.
For example: Let’s play football with our children, hun’!
OR
It was so totally your turn to wake up the kids! Also, teenday (turnips) again?
OR
Maybe we shouldn’t tell the children about your crystal meth addiction.
(Okay, I made the last one up)

I am not making this shit up (except for the last one) . What I don’t understand is why she would she send Nikki, the biggest skeptic of love, who was hiccuping with uncontrollable laughter this message? Eh, Love can make you send your crazy personal messages to anyone.

Listening now: Jenny’s cryin’ by Dope (Badass band =D)

Unclean Toilets – A plot against the Government?

I’m more than thrilled to find out that someone actually rants more than me over unsavoury bathroom conditions and also to watch the Hyderabad administrator being ripped to pieces by the Sindh interior minister was an absolute treat.

It was a moment of glee for me (and others) to watch someone get bullied on the screen with such brutality that I turned to watch it on Youtube (AKA as the best thing ever after Madonna and pants) for some more.

The Sindh interior Minister made a visit to a local relief camp for the flood affected, little did he know the horrors that lay beyond him as he waddled into a bathroom with vengeance.

The Awesome Bit:

 The administrator with his head hanging low, got the full brunt of  interior Minister, Zulfiqar Mirza, as the latter  found something unpleasant stuck to the toilet seats. He spat out,”…I will take personal action against you. I will treat you like a bdmaash (Thug). If I there are no clean toilets by this evening, I will arrest you.”

He further added, oblivious to the administrator’s enormous, I-am-sooo-busted, sweat marks around the armpits. “Unclean Toilets are a conspiracy against the Zardari Government!” – Cue: someone hollers “JIYE BHUTTO” – “(You) have committed this crime, I will act like a bdmaash and you know, I am a bdmaash.” (it’s clobbering’ time, y’all!)

While the administrator tried to mumble something. Someone rightfully said “STFU” behind him. Afterall we need no middle-aged sweat-coming-down-like-torrents-of-rain armpit guy to ruin this amazing moment.

Oh, This Is Such Happy Bit of News, Dear

OhMaiGod. You guys.

I have two things with me right now. I would have played ‘Guess what’s in my hand’ game with you like I played with family and strangers out on the street.

Me: KNOW WHAT? GUESS WHAT’S IN MY HAND!

Old lady watering her plants: …

Me: of course, it’s a letter. BUT WHAT IS INSIDE THE LETTER? WHATTT?

She backs away slowly.

Me: HUZZAH! *lots of maniacal laughter.

Anyway, I have…one acceptance letter and one rejection letter from two different universities.

I don’t know what to write now. It’s only been a couple of  hours since the letter arrived and I was so giddy and downright obscenely happy with the fact that I got admission in the top university so much that I didn’t give a flying duck about the reject letter. It’s cool, it’s totally cool – I got the acceptance from the uni. I wanted to get into.

But I’ll keep the reject letter from the other as well. For nostalgia purposes.

After a year of tantrums, spontaneous wrath break outs and posts about squirrels, I’m finally going to be a college girl.

My parents are overjoyed – because they’ll be getting rid of the child that listened to doom metal and lay sprawled on her bed all day long with bags under her eyes. Purple shadows underneath your eyes are not an emblem of beauty – according to the standards set by most people. My eleven year old cousin even asked me in his usual droll grumble, “Did you get punched by someone?”

I digress. Let’s celebrate write2escape’s acceptance by being rowdy in my comment section, and of course stuffing your face in junk that would make you fat. Hallelujah!

Oh and my country is 63 years old today! =)

Listening now: The rules by Elysion.

Related articles

• Another Rejection Letter, Huh? (picturestothinkabout.wordpress.com)
• A Rejection Letter, part 1 of 1 (I hope) (amandabrandt.wordpress.com)
• School Acceptance and Rejection Letters (queenoftheclick.com)

Here’s to the Ranting I do In My Head!

I’m irrationally upset at the moment, throwing clots of teenage angst and other paraphernalia – yes, I have feelings. Shocking!  I’ve already demolished two people who messaged me and replied as acidly as possible. Also blinded with rage, wrote “Goole” instead of google in the search bar. Apparently Goole is:

Goole is a market town and inland port in the North East of England with a population of about 18,000.

Sounds pretty rad.

Y’all know I’ve tried to be an educated intellectual, who presents her views in a very astute angle (Psych! Insert LOL!) However, yes, no more pretending. Forget it. I’m very good writing inane posts and I’ll continue doing it. The force is with me.  I’ll stay a pseudo-intellectual for the time being.

Okay, so why this volatile state? I guess the anger stems from a mail I got and some people…S’all I can tell.  Oh well, here’s to rants and raging. Fun times.