Farting to heaven.

Define farting.
“Farting is a patriotic act of cleansing one’s stomach by holding one’s breadth and letting the gas flow from the other end of the body, the asshole, to be precise.”

After reading numerous scientific accounts on the generation of farts, I have come to a conclusion which can be summarized in a very basic formula-

Fart intensity=Weight of the person/Speed of fart (in km per sec)

The more the weight of the person dispersing, the more will be the balloon of smell formed. And again, lesser the speed of the fart, more will be the time it lingers around, I mean obviously.

Farting was discovered in the early Mesopotamian era, when sailors on-board ships, started falling sick of mysterious, undetectable shit. Confused with sea-sickness at first, it came into prominence when more and more sailors started falling sick from the weird radioactive affects of the gaseous predator.

Need of the century-lavatories.

I got a nightmare that night. I was on my bowel bed and I couldn’t pass out what I wanted. And I died. I died cos I couldn’t pass out my dumps. I think of all the weird deaths ever recorded in the history of mankind and I would rate my death right up there. My tombstone would read something like this-

PETER KENNEDY
till 2011
First man to die of ‘shit-coagulation’. Amen.

I don’t wanna die like that. Ever. I don’t wanna be the late grandfather to some kids who will be the butt of all jokes cos he couldn’t take the call of nature in time. No. No way in hell is that gonna happen.

Hence began my crusade against the worst enemy of mankind. And I planned to revamp my house in such a way that I won’t have to wait a millisecond to pass out the fermented thingys banging inside my stomach. 

Pangs of growing a moustache.

I grew up in a country where the measurement of manliness is done by the amount of hair you have on your face. Yeah, seriously, we Indians must introduce a better manliness rating system, right? And it doesn't help if you are from a race which does not have a very good record of allowing natural facial hair growth. So while my growth hormones were really running wild and everything else was growing longer, there was still no sign of that precious, prickly manliness measurement.

Then I read somewhere about taking matters into your own hands if I want some results. Hence, I decided to go on a mission to get a face full of ‘women-attracting’ hair. 

I started on my mission by gouging on newspapers because this is a medium where there is no censorship and if you know how to look in the right places you will find a solution for every weird problem you have. My friend had a problem with his girl and he consulted a doctor from a paper’s advert.  His problem wasn't solved but when he told his girl about his visit to the doctor, his girl thought he is retarded and they broke up. I guess, that’s a solution nonetheless, right?

So my search for my solution landed me in a shop that has a solution for hair growth. It probably wasn't a typical solution for me, but then I applied my super-fast brain and in a minute I figured out the hair on my head is the same as the hair that is gonna come on my face! Beat that!!

I bought a weird, greenish thingy which the shopkeeper said was the best you can get anywhere in the world. Then he went on about how natural it was and stuff like that. But he never asked me why I needed the stuff cos my head was still full of hair. I guess nobody cares, eh?

That night I applied a generous amount of hair-growing-converted-to-mustache-growing liquid on my face and waited. I waited for a minute. I meditated. Then I waited for another minute. I looked at the mirror. Nothing. I meditated again. I waited for a day. I looked at the mirror. Nothing. I thought this is a part of the mustache-struggle, you know. You get nothing without a few hurdles. And I wasn't gonna give up.

But then a year passed and I began to realize this thing isn't working. I guess I had to struggle with something else. So, I gave up my green liquid and went on to another bright solution.

One day, while traveling by bus, I met this very cool gentleman with a double-my-lifetime’s worth of mustache on his face. I felt naked sitting beside him. But then with some courage, I managed to ask his how he got such a lustrous pair of half-mustaches. His next word was my way to heaven. He became my Guru. He became my Gandhi, my savior. And he had managed to do it by uttering only a single word, “Shave”.  

I literally jumped off the running bus to the supermarket to buy a full shaving-kit. I had found my way! I got the best blade in town, the best shaving cream in the world and the best after-shave in the universe. I ran home and dragged my never-took-bath body to the bathroom. I pulled off the packaging, read the instructions, and started shaving. I did it twice. I meditated for a minute and shaved again. And again.

I became so obsessed with getting my mustache that I neglected the earthly feelings I had. Those souls I had to meet were sacrificed in my heavenly quest for a mustache. But I knew this was a part of the struggle. I will see 

I became frustrated at times. Never seeing any bit of the black hair, I was yearning for! But I toiled on! I watched TV with men with a mustache, gliding away with girls in their arms. I kept saying to myself that my day is also close! My mustache is coming! I kept reading interviews of famous men whose mustaches were the only things that landed them to where they were. Interviews about how they swayed their mustaches left and right, how delicate they became in winter, how they felt when the coffee stains crept into their mustaches.

Then half-a-decade later, it came. My mustache, my very own. I was as delighted as a new father. I thought of running naked 

How the world changes. Here I was, yearning for attention on my new mustache and all I could see were looks of disgust, hatred. I momentarily thought it was jealousy, but interestingly, nobody else had a mustache. I asked around. “Why isn't there anyone with a mustache?!” And there it was, fashion had changed. It was time for the naked face.

What came first: Chicken or Egg?!

In my positively unfulfilled and worthless existence, I have had the chance to interact with many personalities. Every time I ask them the question, “So what came first: the chicken or the egg?” I am always floored with some inspiring answers. These are answers which can raise a lot of questions on whether humans are dumber that the animals we think are dumber. Here they are:

Barack Obama:
“A good compromise, a good piece of legislation, is like a good sentence; or a good piece of music. Everybody can recognize it. They say, 'Huh. It works. It makes sense.’ ‘What was your question again?!’”

Neil Armstrong:
“Of course, I came first! What, do you think, Edwin went there first?! Come on! Watch the videos! A small step for man, a giant…”

Mark Zuckerberg:
“In your question, chicken comes first. I didn’t plant the story about the chicken! Did ‘Wardo pay you to ask me that?!”

Superhero powers that can land you into trouble!!

Everyone wants to have a superpower. We invented Superman, Batman and the lot just to fulfill our obsession with power. No, Matt, they aren't real! In life, however, there is no guarantee that having such superhuman powers will work in our favor, in fact, these powers may backfire and leave us moaning like LiLo for drugs.

Flying:
Lets say you have somehow got the brains and money of Tony Stark. You have built yourself that fancy-suit.  Assume that you’ve the frictionless, zero-conductivity flight suit to stop your skin from freezing off, with a nifty mask to keep bugs out of your teeth and wind resistance from squishing your eyeballs into something not even the Brits would spread on their toast. And you take-off. But..

World's dumbest questions.

Q: What is the world's most worthless currency?
A: In 2008, the Zimbabwean dollar was so worthless that it cost 300 billion Zimbabwean dollars for a loaf of bread, and Zimbabwe's $1 coin was worth some 0.000000000002 American cents. In 2009, they introduced a 100 trillion dollar note before the currency collapsed. If anyone can sell me that currency note, I am ready to buy it for 1$, American!

Q: What is the world's least spoken language?
A: Ume Sami originated in the same general area of Sweden and Norway but is spoken along the Ume River to the north of Arjeplog and Arvidsjaur. The number of Ume Sami speakers has dwindled to ten. Let me see if Google can translate Hello to Ume Sami. At last, Google is confused.

Q: What is Phalloorchoalgolagnia?
A: As if the spelling was not painful enough, these are people who like to get hit, squeezed, kicked, pinched, flicked and a bit down there. More pain, more gain. The intense pain is supposed to excite them, sexually. With whatever is left of your mini punching bag, of course.

The Bollywood thingy.

I dunno if you have seen a Bollywood movie or not. Maybe you have, maybe you haven’t. After reading this post, two things, no, three things might happen. For those who have seen Bollywood movies, they might stop watching them. For those who haven’t seen yet, they might start watching ‘em.

Here’s what happens in Bollywood movies-

Gravity gets suspended:
When the hero is in action, God suspends gravity for some time. No, it still works for the villains. So, the hero can fly in the sky, jump above buildings and whatever. But the poor villains still have to deal with gravity and get beaten to a pulp. Sorry Newton, Bollywood just disproved your theorems!

Singing is a piece of cake:
Lover boy in Hollywood? Hah! You haven’t seen the Bollywood hero yet! He sings for the heroine. Anytime. Anywhere. Music? He has a portable band which follows him invisibly and waits for him to start moving his lips. The walking iPod, I daresay. Take that, Bieber!!

Mom is always there:
The situation? The hero is at gunpoint. The heroine is captured. Villain shoots. Audience gasp. Hero gets shot? No. Mom saves him by coming in front of him and the bullet. How did she reach so fast? Mommy has got the power!

Hostel of males.

I stay in a hostel where men from everywhere share the building benefits. The dudes who stay here don’t talk much. You see, half of these men are husbands driven out of their homes by angry wives. One of the disasters of this hostel is that we have to share the bathrooms and the toilets. 

When I wake up in the morning, I usually find an assortment of Homo-male-sapiens in their funniest of positions. A dude will be brushing his teeth absent-mindedly, like he got high tasting that toothpaste of his. Then a guy will be standing just outside the door of the shit-collector, crossed-legged and tears almost running down his cheeks trying to control the ammoniac liquid banging on his erectile, yet dignified enough not to start shouting at the oblivious terminator inside.

The assortment of scents that comes through as an aftermath of fermentation of junk foods and what not, in the human body can be quite, umm…discerning. But you just can’t insert your fingers inside your nose cos it’s termed ‘impolite’. Yeah, you have to fill yourself with unorthodox signature smells from their assholes and try to remain calm. Then a standing in line to reach the water basin for some respite always yields a strange result: basin filled with yellowish ‘brushed-my-teeth’ liquid. 

The essential guide to praying.

The most common problem with praying is that God never seems to listen to our prayers. It has never happened to me that I am kneeling before God and he suddenly appears before me saying, "Peter, your prayers made me cry! Your one wish will be granted for your devotion, son. Name one!”  So, why is this happening to us? Is this something we are designed to do? Failing in prayers? I don’t think our religious fathers invented praying just for the sake of ‘fooling’ us into believing God exists.

There must be a way of convincing God! I pursued and studied some of the old archives in the Vatican library like Robert Langdon and found a mankind changing, path-breaking way of praying to God. I haven’t tried it myself, but I wanna share this with you so that you can waste your time trying it and then you can tell me if it works or not. You see, it’s still in its ‘beta’ stage.

Finding #1:
When you pray, your position matters a lot. The most common problem with us praying is that we kneel and pray. Now tell me, how many people kneel and pray? Almost everybody. If I was God and I was seeing all these humans kneeling before me, all in the same pose, I would be confused. I would be confused to choose whom to listen to. After all, I am just God, I am not God!!
So God is looking for people who have a different style of praying. Lying down on the stomach and praying is a way of satisfying God. It physically says, “God, I am so tired, please listen to my prayer!”  The next time you got to the church, eagle-spread yourself on the floor. Who cares about the onlookers?! Once your prayers are answered, you are gonna be a millionaire!  

How to: stay young.

Life is full of problems. Even if you are the bloody president, you have problems. I must say, you have most of the problems when you become president! Look at Obama. He was black when he started out. He is white now! I meant his hair, dude. No, we never allow racism to be a topic here.

We worry about getting old. We worry about getting old more than developing holes in our "older than us" underwear. We worry so much about getting old, that we grow, old. You know. Lemme give you some free tips to act not old. These work, even if you are on your death-bed right now. They say, no matter when you die, die young! What bullshit. Anyways, these tips kept me to remain young for so long, you see?! Khi khi. No I can't show you my Birth Certificate.

Tip #1: Act like you are not old. Even if you are a retarded old man, try acting like a child. Drink milk. They say, "a glass of milk a day, keeps your next birthday away". Right. Eat ice-creams. Chocolate ice-creams. They have a chemical called "growth-retarder". I bet it works, cos I read about it somewhere!

Tip #2: Don't get married. If you are married, divorce her already. The American Association of Staying Young has found that a shouting female's radioactive wave can add 3 years to the directed! Get her outta your house! Check yourself instantly in the mirror the next day. You will 'look' so young.

Tip #3: Have a party in your house. That's right, Bring in your old buddies in your house and party like a wasted rock-star. Bringing in the ecstasy is a great idea, cos if you die of an overdose, you die young! Once you are a ghost, you can brag among st the ghosts' community that you are young. Please don't haunt me though.

Job post: Recruiting terrorists.

Bombing Field Technician-Karachi.

About the Company:
Al-Kaida is a world leader in providing terrorist solutions all-over the world. At Al-Kaida, we have designed a culture that helps you get there: heaven. We are primarily based in Afghanistan. We have branches world-wide with our operations and training facility in Pakistan. From our flexible, die where you want approach, to our suicide-bombing specialist, we do everything we can to make sure our employees not only die soon, but kill sooner. Into committing suicide? Into hating Americans? If your answer is yes, then you have come to the right place. If your answer is no, we are coming to get you!

Job Description:

This job is primarily based at our new training facility just opened in Karachi.

The area:
With an aim of killing and eliminating all Americans by 2012 (before Armageddon), we are in search of talented candidates who have a knack of hiding bombs and acting non-terrorist. We have a network of highly trained terrorists located all over the world to cater to the needs of bombings, suicide-attacks, kidnappings, hijacking etc. Using our unique technology and expertise in dying fast, we keep Al-Kaida's customer-facing bombs running and blowing up.

Reality about relationships.

New! Don't forget to download the new toolbar here!
I wanna tell you a story, no, don't go away! This will be quick. It's the story of Dan and Lucy, a couple made for each other, well, they thought so. Lets cut out the sweet and sugary parts and go directly to their spicier ones, cos that's what we love! Dan loves Lucy. Lucy loves 'ruling' Dan.

2nd month in relationship, 14th day, 2 pm:
Dan and Lucy are walking hand-in-hand in a park (groan!) and they are conversing.
Dan says,"You know my friend Emily? She mailed me yesterday. She is in Finland...." Lucy suddenly releases her hand,"Isn't she your old classmate?! The one you used to share your donuts with in junior school?!" "Yea.....but...",prays Dan.
Lucy takes out her mobile phone, opens her browser and types in: www.gmail.com.
Username: dan_the_dude@gmail.com
"Tell me your password",orders Lucy.
"But why do you want my password?!"
"Don't you love me?!"
"Yes, I do....but..."
"Then tell me your password."
Dan tries to explain,"But you never tell me your password."
"Don't you love me?!"
"Yes, I do...but..."
"Then tell me your password."
"It's pineapple, lower case",groans Dan in defeat.
Lucy's eyes light up, Dan knows it's trouble. He is right.
"Your password is a fruit?! I thought it is my name!! Is this her favorite fruit?! You kept the password her favorite fruit's name?!"
"No....no, her favorite fruit is mango..."
"OHO!! So you even know her favorite fruit! What's her favorite pass-time?! E-mailing you?!",shrieks Lucy.
Poor Dan.

Know thyself.

Are you a side-track walker? Do you love eating things what others don't? Do you step out of your house with your right feet first? That might be causing you a lot of problems right there! You see, when the right feet always goes out 'there' first, he starts complaining. The left feet is all relaxed and he hasn't got any pressure of facing the hostilities of the world first! So give your right feet a break. You can sever it off and send him to the Bahamas for a vacation.

Large bums: After an extensive research undertaken under my own vigilance, we found out creatures who sit a lot more of their childhood tend to have larger bums. This special experiment was conducted on 3 chimps. No, this isn't animal cruelty! I was just trying to find out how Kim Kardashian got such humongous bums! Now that's for human development. As I was saying, we imported the chimps while they were still in their eggs and we made them hatch using sunlight. From the moment these chimps hatched, we tied them in 3 different positions.

C1 (I will refer to their scientific names) was made to stand straight and tied to a pole. C2 was made to sit on a bench and tied in that position. C3 was made to sleep (ah, the lucky one!) and tied in that position.

After 20 years of observation, we got to the breakthrough never done yet in human anatomy: the chimp who sat for 20 years had larger bums!! That is in direct connection to Kim who has stated before, "I had to sit through my childhood. Nobody wanted to be with me." And this is a discovery that will change mankind!

So if your child's egg just hatched, make sure you make her sit right now! Don't let her go anywhere! She is gonna be famous-for-nothing-but-having-Godzilla-sized-bums when she is grown up!

We want a Nobel Prize for this. In bum research. Oh, by the way, the other two chimps are still under observation.

The complexity of simplicity.

We Indians can't use English for shit. When Indians use English, it's like Shakespeare made to write Romeo and Juliet in Japanese. We are crippled, just crippled in English. So to ease the plight on the public, the Indian government made some amendments.
The amendments were aimed at making English simpler for the common man. It had three essential points to it.

Indian Language Act No. 25719803754 Sec. (93427659), 2011.

First: For the ease of the public, the way English words are spelled will be modified and it's use will be made compulsory for all Indians. Use of double letters in English words will be discontinued and prohibited.

The Indian train journey.

I did come out alive. I dunno how. No, there were no oxygen masks inside like the ones you get in-flight which drops down suddenly when the 'air-tin' is in danger. But I survived. I think it was my will-power. Better give the credit to the 'oh-so-rare-in-trains' chick who was sitting two seats from mine.

A fifteen hours sit-or-stand inside a long, no, very long vehicle. Run by government. Dirty as hell. Not enough place to sleep. Seats torn, the hidden, now freed metal trying to assassinate me. It was quite a cat and mouse game.I was the mouse.

First sight: When you get into an Indian train for the first time, the first thing you think is, "God, this place stinks!" Even if you are a seasoned traveler, I am pretty sure the first time you entered with your dad your thoughts were the same. Even when you couldn't speak a word those days, you were thinking something along the same lines, in baby speech. You know.
The bogies, or 'vans connected together' were painted like the painter got bored while doing the job and fell asleep. By the way, have you ever noticed how bad the artistic sense of government painters are?!

How to: travel in a bus.

The cheapest means of transport. Apart from your legs carrying you for free. So when you step into this cheapo you need to be on your toes.

Getting one: If you are new in a city and you dunno how to say the name of the language in that language, it will be really troublesome to find the correct bus. Get going to the bus-stop early and look around at the dudes around. Don't ask the chicks cos they dunno shit. Look around for guys in specs. Don't even think of going to the big-mustache guy. Asking him for the bus number is like saying, "Oh, I am new here and you can loot me!"
Ask that lean and bespectacled guy about which bus will take you where.

Getting on-board: Buses here never stop. Seriously. They keep running even at the bus-stop. They never wait for passengers. It's like they fear if they wait a minute, the bus would be flooded with people. It's true though. So you have to run and get on-board. This needs some practice. Start training a week back. Wake up in the morning, take a skateboard with you. Roll it along your side while running. Jump on it suddenly. If you fall, you will never catch a bus. Practice makes perfect. It hurts?

How to: become a Superhero.

Maybe the title should have been "How to: become Batman", but I wanted people to take it as they want to be. A 'Superhero' covers a broader domain you see. Even Shaktimaan too. Khi, khi.
Now being a Superman kinda thingy is impossible by a long shot. But we can try being Batman. And we do need some Wonder Women too. No, you can't change the costume.

Start: Well, first of all you have to be a weakling. No Superhero was a Superhero before his ass got kicked and he realized it hurt. Then he wanted to do something about it. The exception was probably Shaktimaan, who started meditating and you have to still strain your poor ass to do that. But we all know where he landed up after that. In the Parliament. Sorry, Shaktimaan!
So pick up a fight with some goons. You can pay them beforehand not to break you to pieces. Just a slap. Use ketchup for the blood on your chin. Then feel (fake) angry.

@Sachin: How to: make your 100th century.

Even you are feeling it. Aren't you? Yeah, Sachin. Milestones can be tough. Even tougher when you are in England. You see, the whites are very bright when you look at them and you get confused. Don't worry, I have a fool-proof plan to help you get to your next century. Don't forget to clear my bills.

Bribe: I am not asking you to fix the match. Nope. This is a bribe. And a bribe is very different from fixing, right?
Well, at least bribes are accepted in India. Bribe everybody. Start with the score-keepers. Convince them to just add 1 to your 99 centuries. Then bribe the commentators. Ask them to announce it's a century when you reach 1. Technically speaking it's just a matter of adding two 0s and 0s don't count for anything. We invented 0. Let's make use of it. Bribe the fans. At least I will receive some part of it! With the count of your account deposit, it's just a piece of the cake. 

How to: hire and sit in an auto-rickshaw.

They are the most common yellow or orange, whatever the color is, vehicle in India. They cause 27.45678908% of all the traffic jams in India. Every person on the Indian soil should know how to sit in an auto-rickshaw, trust me, it's just a matter of time before we have to carry the license for 'sitting' in an auto!

The fare: If you are a foreigner and you don't wanna catch the bus, you can start searching for an auto. I can see a dozen of them coming at you at this very moment. The reason? You are like a shining pot of gold. It's a loot.

So before you even touch the auto, ask the rates. Chances are huge that he will state a price double than what is normal.
No you can't beat him to death for that. It's also a business. Make a deal. Whatever he asks you, claim to pay less than half. If he says X amount, you should claim something like X/2-10. Never mind.

The life of a mosquito.

Four weeks. Twenty eight days (check your maths!). That's it. That's the lifespan of a mosquito. I can't imagine living for only 4 weeks! I cant even finish my favorite game in 4 weeks! I had the opportunity of visiting the life of a mosquito, thanks to the male who fluttered into my room. How would you take life as a mosquito?

First, they don't have a huge living period, that almost makes their life even less worthy. No, I am not a spec-ist! I just think God didn't give them a lot of validity in terms of lifespan, you know. And that doesn't even counts the highest mortality rate among-st all species-every human loves slapping a mosquito! So for all you mosquito-lovers, please stop slapping mosquitoes. Let them bite you.

How to: take bath.

Yeah, at last your colleague almost died with your 'arm-pits-smell' blast. Good thing he was a backstabber and you got back at him but that's not the way you deal with enemies! There are other cooler ways, for God's sake! So please after you read this, and I know you haven't yet, go take a shower today!

I know it's the hardest thing for you to do. I know your wife makes you stand beside the window to drive the mosquitoes away! It is for you O Great One, the never-took-bath-in-my-life cos your mom didn't teach you.

Step 1: Make a checklist of what things you need to have in your bathroom. Soap? Check. Shampoo? Check.Towel? Check. Your filthy underwear? Check.

Step 2: Step into the bathroom. If you don't know the way from your bedroom, ask your wife for directions.

Ways to knock over your boss!!

Really frustrated with your boss? Wanna hang your socks dry on his nose? This is the right time to start!! Bosses are meant to be fired and you are supported by millions of employees who feel the same! The problem is-are you ready to take the hostile seat?! Are you selfish enough to earn the bucks and ignore the brickbats? Yes? Read on.

Take my word for it-you can't just fire him like that! You are the runt of the lot at the moment. You might be thinking of the plotters trying to bring down Hitler, but by the looks of it, neither are you a high-ranked brat nor are you a son of the founder. And you are not Mark Zuckerberg. So this might be your only chance to grab that seat.