Monday, July 31, 2006
Have you even been bowling? Im sure you have. Have you noticed how those pins on the bowling rack start to tumble as soon as a well directed 9 pounder stream-rolls into them? Again Im sure you have. But this bit however is not about the finer points of bowling, on the contrary this is a Shakesperean metaphoric literary-gem-written-all-over-it attempt on my part to draw a mightily obvious parallel between those tumbling pins and the tumbling 27 year old desi alpha male. Hopelessly tumbling and falling apart in the face of that dreaded once in a lifetime death plunge (hopefully its once but who knows) a.k.a marriage, a.k.a email@example.com (firstname.lastname@example.org).
There is something about the indian male brain that goes ballistic as soon as they get near that 26-27 time frame. Its as if a bomb goes off in their heads and the fallout of that explosion screams "seriously dude u need a her in your life".
Ive personally spent hours and hours of paid/unpaid research time trying to figure out this problem with the indian male-brain, which mind you would have had uncles albert and freud tearing thier hair and beard off respectively. And then suddenly -WHAM!!! I had it, a flash of brilliance, a beautiful mind suddenly seeing all the patterns falling into place amidst the chaos, pages and pages of equations and theorems and lemmas and what not pouring out and the whole train of my mind-boggling discovery racing at supersonic speed towards Q.E.D. The truth is out there and Im almost there too. Three letters, three mere innocent alphabets that make up a powerful word and that word is the solution. S-E-X. Thats it, now i know why the regal desi alpha male tumbles, now i know why the indian male takes the death plunge come what may, now i know.
It has to be S-E-X, the complete lack of it I mean. All those sex-lack-terones trapped inside the desi alpha-male body for 27 long years itching to get out, all those hours and days and months and years spent checking out the booty on your next-door-beauty, the countless hours spent in front of the comp screen with jenna jameson performing like a suction pump on your alter-ego, the onscreen male porn star, the stories you've heard about good old ummrica where guys get it going from age 16.
Damn it but what about you?
You, the alpha-male from the land that gave the world the kamasutras, you have been oppressed for too long. For too long you have been deprived of your rightful kaam-legacy. For too long your libido has been screaming Mera number kab aayega (When will my time come for fuck's sake). For too long you've been paying for dinner for that god damn girl you have wet dreams about, and even after countless dinners and lunches and brunches and what not first base is still an alien concept to you, for too long you've been bragging to your other desi alpha males Mann I scored, she was reacing for her purse, but but but (saliva drooling part this is) I reached out towards her purse and clamped it shut with the words Let me pay and OH MY SWEET FUCKING LORD my pinkie actually brushed against her nails. I am on mu way to a physical relation yaarr before proceeding to the comforts of your bathroom to relieve yourself of a pinkie driven hard rock between your pants.
For pete's sake, all the fucking action that you've ever seen in your life are your own hands working overtime on you.
But fear not dickhead your time is now. Because you have finally spoken, spoken to your mom and your pishis and your mashis and your kakimas and your didis and your didimas (translation for non-bong folks: all possible female members in your family). You have said those words which would set you free from your hands. You are now 27 and so you say:
Arrange my marriage mom.
You will now show the world, well not the world but the one unfortunate drop-dead beauty that your mom has found for you, that yes you have your long forgotten sex-craving forefathers' legendary love-making skills. You will now show her all those moves that you've mastered in the eeerie calm of your bathroom. You will redefine the Wham Bam thank you mam concept as Wham Bam I dont what happened but I definitely came in two minutes flat. You are Don-Juan-De-Marco, you are Cassanova, you are Romeo, You are James Bond, all rolled into one. And atlong last you are now 27. The force is finally with you and the sex is just around the corner. That holy desi venus trap is about to be yours. Godspeed.
Another fucking disclaimer: This is an ex-post, that got deleted somehow.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
And now that I have those moral-preaching pricks out of the way, let us proceed to the more immoral gameplan that will land you in bed with a desi chick. Buggers the name of the game is twofolds.
This is how the first one goes: Everything is fair for sex and in war , what that means for you in black and white is that no LIE is big enough or wrong enough if there is the possibility that it could land you in bed with the chick you have been having wet dreams about. I mean come on. What is more pathetic?? You having lousy wet dreams at the age of 25 (which btw qualifies you for the biggest LOSER in the world tag) or you just stringing together a string of lies, some big and some small, that would eventually let you score (which inflates your ego and not to mention your libido to astronomical proportions). I shall let you judge that on your own.
And this is how the second one goes: The Indian female has a very dormant Kamasutra gene that is itching for an outlet. And you my dear buggers can potentially be that outlet. What you need to keep in mind at all times is that ours is the country that hosts 1/6th of the world population, but still somehow by some means the females in our country have been conditioned to believe that theres a Lord-of-The-Rings style Troll guarding their holy venice-trap, and the Troll lives in their holy pussies threatening to chop off any invasions into the venice trap as long as she isnt married. (The Troll concept btw also explain why not just cocks but things like dildos or vibrators though extremely enticing is still an alien unholy concept for our females, imagine Anita having to buy an expensive dildo every other day as the Troll keeps on chopping it off-- the economics are just not worth it she says).
As a result what we have is a world full of hep-urban-Western-apeing-in desi chicks who are fortunately (for you that is) fucklessly horny out of their minds. And thus all that you need to do is harness this 23 year old (atleast) burning dormant horny energy and use it to your advantage. And let me tell you, the desi female wants it badly too. I have had personal experiences with pious holy cute sweet desi females who wanted to be treated like a bitch and wanted to be down on fours, all she needed was someone to spell it out to her. And let me tell you it would also be a great blessing for you if the desi chick you are trying to get into bed happens to be in that gooey desi love with her desi boyfriend because that kind of assures you that in the truest tradition of eternal pure desi love they have been practising the holy desi sex in which the boyfriend comes home with a rock between his legs and proceeds to relieve himself in the quiet of his bathroom while the girlfriend has still no clue what a fucking orgasm means or feels like. So you can step right in and fuck the Troll.
So dear friends keep these two things in mind and go for the desi venice trap I say. And when you do that there will be horny and pissed desi females who'll write sex stories about the way Jhantu screwed them out of their mind in their anonymous blogs like here or imaginary anonymous blogs about like here, while some of them will still maintain pretentious non-anonymous blogs writing about the moral pure things and crying their hearts out about the utter asshole that Jhantus and there will be their boyfriends who'll lament about the love that they lost when you screwed their sex-starved desi girlfriends.
And once you have done that you would realize that you dont want to know me because I am a bad, bad bad evil influence and then when you let me know in clear, unambiguous 911-dialing words why I am unfit to be in relationships , then I'll say to you "You have beeen Jhantufied you fucking bitch and now you can kiss my brown ass".
Monday, July 24, 2006
Dislaimer: The situations, scenarios, characters discussed in this post deal with my good old desi (Indian and no not the cool West-Indian but the uncool subcontinent-Indian) tribe. Non-desis are recommended to click the 'X' button.
Arranged marriage (AM) is a wonderful thing. I mean seriously it really is. And if you are a girl/boy, reasonably good looking, and if you have that "I have done my degree from the US of A and I earn in dollars and I drive a 2006 Toyotal Corrola, the world's best selling car" tag, then as my favourite aunt says "We shall reject atleast 20 girls before we select that mallika sherawat- boobed, kajol-lipped, preti zinta-haired, bipasha basu-bodied, madam curie-brained princess for you Jhantu". And Im sure that you will agree when I say that fuck man this offer is too good and bloody enticing as well. I mean not only will my wife solve my research related differential equations in a jiffy ala madam curie, but she will be doing that wearing a skimpy booby-baring bikini ala Mallika. Just letting my mind wander and picturing my AM-ed wife working on PDEs in a black thong turns me on no end.
So AM is a win-win situation I hear you say. And I would agree with you, except for one small teeny-tiny thing that keeps on creating an itch at the back of my head. Sucker for bloody small details you are I hear you say. But hey hear me out on this one will you. I have always wondered you know, how do AM-ed couples start doing IT (the fucking I mean dickheads) the first time. And I am sorry to say I havent as of yet found a satisfactory answer to this what now seems a never-ending quest of mine.
When you have been seeing somene then ,you know, the thing builds up gradually (assuming of course you arent in a hurry to head straight for the venice trap as I am). There are those initial hand-holdings, then those kisses, then those make-out sessions, those groping, those fingering, perhaps a blow-job or two if you are really lucky, and finally after beating around the bush for what usually seems like an eternity you hit the bulls eye. And when you are on your way to hitting the bulls eye your physical comfort level with your partner is hopefully pretty high and both of you are pretty comfortable with hitting the bull's eye. Good
But now take a U turn and for a moment think about an AM-ed couple. Start with the Suhaag raat. This is the first night when you are legally cleared to copulate. So after enduring the absolute torture that is an Indian marriage ceremony you get into that special room with your wife, both of you decked up like theres no tomorrow, and then see that flower-petal decorated copulating-bed majestically occupying 70% of the room.
What do you do???
The groom wonders: Hmm, I am horny no doubt but will it be polite to fuck her the first night? And I havent really slept with a girl before in my life, but I might just be able to pull it off. I have watched a million porn movies after all.
The bride wonders: Hmm does he want to do IT with me tonight. Ill be turning 27 tomorrow and if I dont do it tonight, I will branded as a 27 year old virgin. Not good. Sheela did say she didnt really feel or understand much, the room was too dark and before she knew what was happening Som (Sheela's husband) was through with whatever they were supposes to do.
On top of that they both are confounded with the problem who the fuck is going to make the first move. Will it be the groom with his cool desi-pick up move (you know that Hiee babby, wanna dhance withh mee man, uttered in that ultra-cool Indian AMerican mindblowing accent) which he has been practising with alarming regularity at his local US night-club, much to the alarm of the girls who frequent the joint. Or will it be the bride who suddenly decides to do an impromptu strip tease for her newly wed husband, slowly and even more slowly and painfully taking off her 20 kg saree while leaving her 30 kg worth of jewels on ( and not because it would be damn sexy to see a girl naked wearing just jewellery but its gonna take the whole fucking night to take her jewellery off) ??
Anyway Lets for the sake of arguement assume that somehow, by some means, our AM-ed bride and groom make their way to the bulls-eye stage, fully clothed still mind you, the undressing is a major mental block that would be dealt with later by them. Now the first thing I do before having sex is get my plastics out (I dont want to end up suddenly paying a bulk of money to a god-damn abortion clinicyou see). But does our groom carry plastics in his meant-for-shaadi-kurta pockets??? Or is the bride on pills. Damn it now we have extremely horny groom with a rock-solid hard on making its presence felt firmly and we have a bride who is slightly confused, slightly turned on and not sure what to do. And its not that the groom and the bride can engage in oral sex the first night as well. Oral sex is dirty, it is against the moral fabric of us desis. And on the first night... OOHH NOO WE NEVER DO THAT.
But never mind, we Indians are past-masters at making adjustments. And so our bride and groom will happily adjust to this precarious horny situation too. You know what we have a long day tomorrow meeting each and every relative of your family or mine and its best that we take some rest and get some sleep. You are right, goodnight. And thus the groom turns on his side of the bed, his hand reaching and then restly lightly on his hard on, just as it has for the past 27 years, while our bride closes our eyes and dreams of Karan Johar and SRK style suhaag raats where SRK and Kajol break into a beautifully tuned song every time they are supposed to have sex.
And then they live happily ever after, singing love duets to each other and living the Indian dream in the US of A. But what about the sex?? OHH screw that --- the sex and the passion is anyway supposed to die out faster than you can say Pop goes the weasel. But love duets, now thats everlasting isnt it??
I love happy endings.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
On top of that Im mindlessly bored rght now. Dont ask me why just take my bloody word for it. I dont know about you but when I am bored I tend to get fucking wholesomely horny. The rationale behind this being the following: Since you are bored and have nothing better to do so might as well get horny and have an interesting time by engaging in some good sweaty sex. Bullet-proof logic I know. Anyway the problem is that when you are seeing someone you just cant go around trying to have sex with anything that wears a skirt or a tight pair of ass-hugging jeans (got to do with the principle of monogamy in our god damn society). So out of extreme boredom driven horniness I called up the one person Im allowed to have sex with
Jhantu: where are you?
She: Just came into work
Jhantu: I am horny to boot
She: I see (very non-commital)
Jhantu: I need sex
She: I see (even more non-commital)
Jhantu: So take the day off.
Jhantu: What kind of a girl doesnt take the day off when the boyfriend is horny???
She: All the normal kinds I believe, now go do something and let me get back to work. Will call you later.
Jhantu: But wai....
Damn it!!! Now I have the whole day to spend on my own getting bored and getting even more mind-numbingly horny. Lifes a bitch and so is Amores Perrres
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Well you see this is my one chance to be a famed acclaimed blogger, bloggers around the world and especially from India would pour in by teeming hundreds into this blog, just to get a peek-a-boo at the blog that was blocked by DoT. Suddenly my posts which even on a good day I find repulsive will acquire a hidden, mysterious 3rd dimension. Havent you read the Jhantu blog, my my I tell you the way he attacks society through sex ridden sarcasm is just awesome will go the email that one blogger sends to all others on his/her mailing list and they in turn to everybody else on their mailing list and so on and so forth till ad-infinitum.
Maybe I would even get an interview with some second-rate Indian youngs' gun magazine or something like that where I will answer unimportant questions in an important pompous manner. So why do you say you are obsessed with porn and the female sex Mr.Jhantu, is it a hidden message that you are trying to send out about liberation of the female species. And my answer wont be because I'm a horny prick fuckface why else, no I would instead go on a tangential convex diatribe The real purpose of this blog is to let the females of my country know that for long sex has been kept hidden in the closet, but now it is time for them to come out of that closet and accept it to be a natural act. Through my blog I want to unite the females of my country in the sexual revolution so that they can write and pen down and act upon their their sexual fantasies without worries and if those include me, myself and I then let it be so.
And and and!! There would be bloggers who would write a post or two (the non-sex ones I mean) about me and me blog. Fuck man I could even be nominated for the bloggie or something. And the award for the most sex-starved asian blog goes to --JHANTU!! Thank you, thank you, thank you one and all. This $20 coupon from Amazon means a lot to me. At this moment I would like to thank my friends, my family, my dog, my dick, all the desi-females who have come in contact with me or my blog or my dick and have henceforth gone on to fuck every homo-sapien with a dick, a special thanks to you too.
But how the fuck would I get my lousy blog blocked, that is the million dollar question in hand. It seems that some horny teenage american sex-starved girl's blog titled "princesskimberley" was blocked by the DoT. But somehow my sex starved posts didnt make the cut, maybe its got to do with gender bias on the Dot's part or something. So obviously sex+male is not the buzzword in the DoT hitlist. Well then how about pro-terrorist statements. If I say " Dear DoT members hidden in this blog's posts is a secret formula for making RDX laden explosive charges from thin air and it is my belief that SIMI and Laskar and Hezbollah and what not have cracked my invincible secret code and are making up explosives from thin air by the dozens. So it is imperative that you deny access to this site to everybody and anybody in the Indian subcontinent. This is an urgent plea on my part to you DoT, much like Jack the Rippers' stop me before I kill again message, this is my block this blog before the secret formula leaks out to more and more people message. Please act on it STAT (shake that damn DoTass tootsie)".
Please dear DoT, block my blog and let me have my two days of fame in the sun. I promise I wont take out campaigns, or public litigations, or form yahoo groups or orkut groups condemning your actions, instead I will be eternally grateful to you, though I would continue to make unimportant, hollow, superficial statements about you and the Government and censureship for the rest of my life, which btw I know means peanuts to you.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
I have several plastics ready in my wallet, proclaimed K smiling from ear to ear. And what purpose are they going to serve you, you stupid canadian fuck. This isnt some dime a dozen american or canadian chick, this is a desi girl -- a royal desi girl, and that too a pure one. So the closest you are going to come to using that plastic is perhaps when you finally decide to jerk off at 5 in the morning alone in our stupid bathroom. But I thought I was up for some action tonight, grumbled K. Oh Yes that you are dear K, but you see the way you and I define action is tangential to the way your desi sweetheart would. I dont follow you. Well its pretty simple. the plastics wont even come into the picture at all. Oh you mean she will be on pills, grinned K again that ear to ear grin. Dammit you canadian dickhead. This is sacrilege, this is unpious, his is downright unholy, your desi sweetie on pills!! How could you even think of that, most of them arent even on pills after they get married. How else do you think we end up supporting 1/6th of the world's population???
K started mixing shots into his beer and I could see that he wasnt too happy the way this how-to-bed-a-desi-babe-pep-talk was going. Ok Ok fine, so I dont get to fuck her, I'm fine with that. But let me tell you I wont give her head till I get some from her. I put my glass down and gave K that stare, you know the kind of stare that all those Indian muni-rishis (sages) used to burn down whole forests in our mythological times. Dont look at me that way man. K are you for real?? Are you telling me with a straight face that you expect to get head from your desi sweetie??? Yes, said K in a small voice. I lit up, K's apartment is non smoking but I was beyond caring for that. K my friend you never get head from your desi sweetie. I could see K opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish, my heart went out for him. I wanted to comfort him, make the pain a bit easier for him. So I said what I have heard a zillion times: you see K they think its dirty, its nothing personal really, its just that you know our female folks are obsessed with cleanliness -- so you know even sex has to be clean for them.
I could see the look of complete bewilderment on his face. Sex isnt supposed to be clean dude. It isnt even supposed to be nice. Its supposed to be dirty and kinky and fucking painful man. Thats where all the fucking pleasure comes from. I know K. But you are in a different league now. Cleanse your mind of all those things that you've just said. So what the fuk am I going to get out of tonight, finally screamed K. Well you might get to stick your tongue into her mouth, maybe even get your hands up her tees, and my guess is thats about it.
So no sex not even a lousy blow-job and I need to keep it clean as well. Yes K, your desi sweetheart might pretend to be a pretentious slut but is actually a stupid, scared cunt of the highest order. I think I will finish the keg before she turns up, will be easier if I am in half my senses.
Definitely Oh and K one last thing she probably doesnt know how to touch a man, so you know give her some clear cut directions if you get that far, else it might take you an eternity, though on the hindsight its a kind of new feeling to have your erection coming and going in a rhythmic sinusoidal fashion.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
Wake up at 7:30 AM (my screwed up cycle is to blame for this early waky waky waking)
Check if the roomie is around, if not light up a parliament light (yes yes i am living thriftly, hence the awful brand im smoking these days. And there is a reason for reverting to this god-forsaken fuck ass brand too. I just calculated that I spend 200 bucks on smokes every month, now given that I have been in the US for 40 months thats 40X200=$8000 worth of carbon particles that I have accumulated in my poor lungs. But fortunately the Parliaments come at a fabulous price of two for 6 bucks, so thats a savings of $80 p.m, I'll be richy rich soon. )
As I move to my third smoke lazily reach for the comp and spend the next hour stalking the most useless sites on the web. Make sure that there is a socer match today, if not feel a pang of disappointment turning your stomach into a lousy knot. (Soccer matches you see take up atleast 2.5 hous of your time, the knot in the stomach makes you realize that you now have 2.5 extra hours on hand for the day, DAMN!!)
Head to the god forsaken lab at 10:00 and turn on the display to see the latest shock in wait for me. And yes shock it is. My fucking simulations have again broken down.
Spend the next 4 hours fiddling with my bug infested code to make the simulation run again. Atlast it seems it is running. Wait for another hour, just to check that the simulation is up and going properly. Spend that hour again investigating any new developments in your mail-boxes or increasing the hit-count on those sites that no-one visits.
Ahh!! Its now almost 5, time for the first beer of the day. Drag B and B out of their offices and spend the next hour smoking and drinking cheap Corona, and incase money is tight order a pitcher.
Head back to the lab, re-check the simulation and head back home, satisfied with a days wrk well done, with the postscript that I'll be doing the exact same thing tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that too.
Once home reach for the 6 pack. Debate on whether you want to see Friends or 70s show or Seinfeld or porn. Reach the conclusion that you just have a season and half of Friends left so go for it.
Avoid the phone with a vengence as N and An will definitely call asking for a eat-out or a movie date. So get it silenced and concentrate on the 6 pack.
Once the 6 packs have been devoured, scavenge for food and reach for the pack of smokes you bought in the morning. Unfortunately theres just one left, so after a lengthy and weighty debate as to whether you should smoke the solitary reaper or leave it for the morning, decide to smoke it right now. To hell with tomorrows.
Finally fall asleep.
And thats how I spend my days these days. Blissful boredom, no sex, no women, no heavy conversations, no readings. Eternal sunshine of a bored mind. Amen to that.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Bestest sight: 60 year old grandpa and grandma, trashed on weed, having sex in the stage 2 ground at 4 in the afternoon.
Bestest moment: Ozzy getting his words jumbled in Crazy train.
Bestest band on view: Black Label Society
PS: Jhantu was at the San fucking Frisco show.