Why we fight.

I'd forgotten about my own little domain of horrible on the internet until I was reminded about it last night. Little cobwebs here and there but it'll work with a little cleaning up. Actually... fuck that.. I'm too lazy to clean it up. You fuckers will just have to sit among the cobwebs and poisonous snakes that I released into the audience while you were in the bathroom.

Been working for about 9 months now. Which means I could have gotten pregnant and have delivered a kid by this time. I could have had my own little deformed monstrosity to play with and cajole with love and putrid rotting organs until his head exploded. Instead what I have is a stillborn career and nothing to show for 9 months of work apart from a few scars.

It's been an interesting few months and I have learned a lot on the job and hell I really like the job. There's no other office where I could do what I love all day long and get paid for it, really there isn't. However I am tired of no work of mine seeing the light of day yet. Nine months in with around 4 scripts written for various projects and many, many, many concepts submitted but I've got nothing to show for it. That does get me sometimes. I often think sometimes that I'll quit but then realise there's nowhere else that will want me and with nothing to show for these 9 months of work I'll get buppkiss and have to start from the bottom all over again.

Oh well... I've been promised things will pick up in December and January so let's see. I do love the job and the people there are great. Every day is a blast.

9 months in Bangalore now.

I don't hate this city as much as I used to. It's nice. The room I'm living in is nice for the most part. I get to walk around naked without anyone complaining so that aspect of it is cool. I see more pretty women in this city now than I used to so that's a big bonus right there.

Currently I have very few complaints about my life.

So what's going to happen to this space of self-loathing?

It'll stay here. My toilet-bowl brain has more dung floating in it than just pure hatred and self-loathing.

For example :

Here's a monkey playing a guitar.




























Enjoy the rest of the day.

This one is for the ladies

I don't get you.

But I want to be honest.

I really don't get you.

I see all of you out there with these really asshole guys.

These fucking asshole guys who are pricks and don't deserve to be with anyone.

But you want to be with these fuckwads.

I don't get it.

Now I'm not saying I'm a catch.

But I'm a nice guy.

And I'd treat you right.

I'm not an asshole.

So why are you with fucking pricks and dickweeds?

What is wrong with you?

You can do better.

And I'm not talking about me.

There are just nicer and better guys out there for you than the fucking dickfuck asshole pieces of shit you're currently dating.

Don't be fooled or taken in by these fuckwads.

They are assholes.

I'm better than them.

I might have no self-esteem whatsoever but I know that I'm better than them.

Fuck your boyfriends. They are fucking pricks who deserve to die.

That's right.

I want your boyfriends to die.

I want all the fucking prick asshole dickless sons of bitches waste of sperm men out there to fucking die.

You are fucking useless and assholes and need to fucking die.

Ladies you can do better.

Why are you dating these cumwads?

They are not right for you.

Find someone else.

Please.

And then find a girl for me.

Please.

I hate your boyfriend and want him to fucking die a painful death.

Please.

Do better.

Goddammit.

FUCK!!

Son of a bitch.

Die.


That is all.

You wanna know what Self-Loathing is?

So you want to know what self-loathing is?

I hate everything about myself.

Everything.

My skin.

Do you know how sick it is to hate your skin?

And not in the way that women hate their skin.

I hate my skin.

I hate every fucking inch of this skin.

It disgusts me.

I hate my face.

It fucking sucks.

It's not symmetrical and is disproportional for my body.

I hate everyone.

I hate you
and you
and you
and you.

But know this.

I hate myself more than I hate you.

And I hate you so much I wish I could telepathically kill you with my hate.

But I hate myself more.

Can you imagine how much hate I'm filled with for myself?

I hate my eyeballs.

They fucking suck.

I hate the planet.

What the fuck piece of shit planet did I get born on?

Why the hell did I get born on this piece of crap planet with the rest of you fucktards?

I hate god.

God is a piece of shit for doing this to me.

I hate everything that has gone into making me the person that I am.

That includes you society.

Oh yes.

That includes you.

I hate you society.

I hate you commerce.

I hate you Industry.

I hate you Mathematicians.

I want all of you to die.

Die.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.

I like Katherine Heigl.

She is pretty.

The rest of you are evil and are destroying the Planet and the Universe.

Die.


Now I am going to end it all.

With any luck I will destroy the rest of you along with myself.

Goodbye.

Don't ever grab a razor when you're bored.

You'll end up looking like a 10 year old boy.

That is all.


Stupid Ashwin.

And I owe it all to the Pogues...

I've got a job now.

I'm in Bangalore.

I write comic books for a living (or at least I'm supposed to but that's a different post altogether)

I'm earning a decent salary.

And I owe it all to the Pogues.

The Bangkok trip went fine. I found out that the people I've been learning animation from are a bunch of frauds and scamsters. I ditched them and explored the city on my own. Had a ton of fun, exposed a con-scheme and bought a crapload of comic books. All in all quite a productive trip.

When I came back from Bangkok I was supposed to go to this cousin's wedding. Now I don't really care for family apart from some. The last few years I've been cold and uncompromising towards them with the result being me taken off the guest list for most family get-togethers and occasions. This cousin apparently hadn't heard about this from the other relatives. Anyway I was offhandedly invited since I was living with my uncle and aunt at the time. It was more like a "Oh.. he's living with you now? Well.. I guess his mom will be pissed if we don't invite him.. bring him along.. what's the worst he can do?" So Saturday evening we all left for this wedding.

The worst I did was skip all the wedding events and just roamed around that area of Bombay eating ice-cream and just taking in the city. The worst I did was completely and totally ignore everyone who tried to make conversation with me and blew off the bride and groom when they tried to talk to me. The worst I did was ogle this cute girl who I found out later on was a cousin. Now that was fucking embarrassing. I spent the entire weekend either roaming the area or reading books in the hotel room they'd arranged for.

On Monday morning my uncle, aunt and me were to head back home. I was sitting in the car at least a half hour before they came down. In the car I had my Ipod with me. Just for fun I made a bet with myself : Alright. I'm going to put into Shuffle mode. If the first song that plays is If I Should Fall From the Grace of God by The Pogues.. then today is going to be a day that changes my life. Having thought that.. I pressed the button.

If I Should Fall from the Grace of God by The Pogues was the first song to play.

I smiled to myself going. Damn, it's going to be a great day!

We arrived home a few hours later. In about twenty minutes I got a phone call from the Vice President of Gotham Comics telling me he'd consider me for a position if I delivered a proposal for a concept he was working on.

Here I am 5 months later. Working for Gotham Comics. I guess they liked the proposal.

Never, ever underestimate the power of an Ipod and Random Play. In the right hands they're nothing short of miraculous.

Song playing :

what else, If I Should Fall from the Grace of God - The Pogues

Off to Bangkok

Alright... I'm heading out.

I hope to be alive once this trip is done. Hope there's no bombs or crazy hookers with swords and uzi's. Well... maybe a little bit of the crazy hookers with swords and uzi's. Within a limit.

I hope this trip doesn't suck. I hope I can have fun with the people I'm going with. And most of all... I hope I get to USE THOSE GODDAMN CONDOMS!!!

See you all in 5 days. If I get access to the internet I'll post about my crazy, boring adventures in Bangkok. If I get killed... I just want to say... I always hated all of you... you're all fucking lame idiots who are dumber than me. Except my parents. My parents are cool.

Be back later.

I got those condom blues...

So I find myself at yet another one of those moments of life. Not a crossroads... nothing as cliche as that, more like a revolving door that I've been trapped in and running round in circles for years now; it may lead me outside but more than likely I'll be thrown right back where I began.

I bought a pack of condoms.



5


4


3


2


1


Ok... I guess by now you're done laughing. If not then stop. There's plenty more to laugh at than just my sad, pathetic life.

I was sitting in my horrible animation institute listening to our tour operator... oh wait.. I'm getting ahead of myself. Here's where it begins.

Last January I joined an animation course in Bombay. (Fuck calling it Mumbai... I was born in Bombay and that's the way it's going to stay.) I thought I might like animation. Seemed like an interesting job and it's going to be a massive money making industry in the near future. Here's how it breaks down since January : I hate the course, I hate the job, I hate that I stayed 10 months in a small room that nearly drove me insane. But here's the thing. The course included a study trip to their campus in Bangkok. So before burning bridges on this horrible course I figure I might as well take a trip to another country which I'd already paid for.

And so my story continues... Yesterday the management of my horrible institute held a brief briefing about our trip. He was going on and on about the stuff we weren't going to do because of poor management of time when suddenly this thought popped up in my head : Should I buy Condoms?

Now those who know me... and those who don't... know I'm a loser dork with conflicting, idiotic ideas about women. (Especially those who've read the previous post.. and if you haven't... don't.) I've never had a girlfriend (obviously) and I probably never will. So why the condoms? Wont they just end up gathering dust and expiring hidden away somewhere? (Keep in mind the expiry date of condoms is around 2 years or so...)

Hell I don't know exactly why either. All I know is I had to do it. There was something inside me that said fuck it if everyone laughs.. just do it. It was this strange compulsion that I knew I had to complete or I'd not be able to function correctly knowing that I hadn't. Hell maybe it's because I'm going to a foreign country, maybe it's because years of cynicism and pessimism have built up into a wall so flimsy that one tiny ray of optimism could shatter it, maybe it's because I needed to get some shred of self esteem back, maybe I just needed to feel better about myself, I don't know.


5

4

3

2

1

Done laughing again? Cool.

Oh yeah. I should get one thing out of the way before I continue. Don't worry mom, they're not for fucking whores. I promise you I wont solicit prostitutes at all, ok? Cool.

So once the meeting got done I walked out and with a grin on my face informed a friend of mine via cellphone of my intention.

"Why?" was his only reply. I answered with a glib "I have no idea."

"What do you think you're going to do there?" Once again, "I have no idea."

"Then what's the point of this?" Yet another "I don't know."

We debated the pros and cons and pointlessness of the action until I arrived at the mall.

I was still on the phone with him making jokes about myself until I realised I had no idea where they kept the condoms. I went up to an attendant and asked "Excuse me, where do you keep the condoms?" He replied, completely bored and disinterested I should add, "Personal Care section." My friend was aghast. (Didn't think I'd ever use that word again...) "What the fuck? You just asked him?" Yes, I replied. I didn't understand what the big deal was. "Most guys... we just... are embarrassed to ask for it." I said I didn't really see the point of being embarrassed about it while walking to the personal care section, I said shouldn't we ask for these things proudly to proclaim to the world and the guy standing behind us in line "Yes. I am having sex!" Well I'm not... but the guy standing behind me in line wouldn't know that, as far as he knows I'm the playboy of Bombay. I'm not though.

My friend relented that it shouldn't be a problem as such but it was still a little embarrassing. I realised now, standing in the personal care section, the condoms were nowhere to be found. So I decided to ask someone else. I went up to the guy at the perfume counter "Excuse me, where can I find the condoms?" "What?" "Condoms." "Oh. Personal Care section sir." "I searched there but couldn't find them." "They're behind the Personal Care section sir. You must not have looked there." He pointed at the general direction and I thanked him and walked. "Holy shit. You did it again?" my friend exploded on the phone. Yeah, I replied. (If you foreign devils are reading this keep in mind that this is India and even though there's a billion of us, sex is still a taboo subject for most people.) He declared that I had big balls of steel and I accepted.

A minute later I stumbled onto the condoms. These geniuses had kept them right next to the sanitary napkins section. So next to the tiny boxes of condoms were rows and rows of different varieties of sanitary napkins, with around 6 women hovering around. This was the only embarrassing thing in the entire experience. I deftly walked up to the packet of condoms, picked up the first pack of Durex i saw, inspected it and held it in my hand. Now no matter how bored and disinterested these women may have been in my apparent sexual life, they still were looking at me while not looking at me. Know what I mean? I was the center of attention for 6 women for around 2 lousy seconds. Hey, it's good enough for me.

I purchased some other items and walked to the counter. And naturally as these things go, the guy at the counter couldn't get a reading off the tag of the box of condoms. So he called the guy from the next counter to enter the code manually. A woman was in line behind me observing all of this. I had the biggest grin on my face. This was one of the funniest moments of my life. A cliched moment happening all over the world to men and women and now I was in the loop too. It's a funny and great moment to be part of a circle of sadness and stupidity.

I walked out of the mall with a large grin on my face. Not because I felt that by purchasing condoms meant that soon I'll be able to have sex, but because of the comedy of the entire endeavor and pointlessness of the purchase. Life just doesn't get funnier than this.

I'm pretty certain nothing is going to happen in Bangkok. I don't know what I'm expecting to happen. Meeting a girl and suddenly hopping into bed with her? I don't have the balls for that. So I don't know why I did this. But I guess I'm glad I did. I may never use these condoms but hell, I've taken a step closer to becoming a man. (5 4 3 2 1 still laughing? Oh well.) And that's one step more than where I was the day before yesterday.

Playlist : Hey Julie - Fountains of Wayne

Adding to the repulsion

I've had a love-hate relationship with women all my life. I love them they hate me. I know it's an old and bad line but so what? I'm not as psychopathic or bloodthirsty as I come off online and on this blog. Whoever's met me in person knows that I am uber-shy who's got more self-esteem issues than a bulimic 14-year-old girl. To be precise I just can't seem to get along with women at all. Not wont or haven't tried… can't; this can be testified to by any woman who's spent more than five minutes with me anywhere anytime. Maybe it's because I find it hard to understand women and unlike most guys I refuse to forget about it and chalk it up to hormones. I have observed women for a while now and have come to several conclusions and even more questions than I started out with.

ON FEMINISM

This is a short bit. Feminism was great when they gave what started as the suffragette movement in the early 20^th century this name in the 1960s and 70s. Feminism was all about women saying that they are equal to men certainly no less and in some ways better. This is true. Feminism still has a long way to go to correct several inadequacies in society and the workplace which exist because we just stupidly denied women so many things. I have no problem with the concept with which feminism started. Equals. The problem I have is with what feminism has now become. At some point in the 1980s and 90s feminism became co-opted by the man-hating movement. We started seeing large groups of women coming together and blaming their problems and other people's problems squarely on men. This is what feminism is equated to now. How is this movement of hating men any different than a bunch of men dressing up in white sheets and blaming their problems on people with different skin colour from theirs. It has the same logic behind it. An extremely popular and so-called critically acclaimed play which some of you might have seen, The Vagina Monologues, has a scene in it in which an older woman rapes an underage girl. Now I'm not taking a moral stance on this, what I am doing is applying square logic to it. In the play the rape is portrayed as an exploration of sexuality and lesbianism. Now this would be fine… if it wasn't rape. The author of the play has stated in several interviews and columns how she believes most men to be rapists and evil and Neanderthals. Well not to be a nenderthal but I fail to see the logic behind the idea that if a man commits rape he's an evil Neanderthal but a woman does it it's an exploration of sexuality and an affirmation of the sisterhood women share. Seasoned feminists have lambasted this sham and have severely criticized other feminists and women who believe in such kind of idiotic fallacies. Feminism was meant to be an affirmation of the power of women, the struggle they've gone through and loudly proclaiming that they are equals in every aspect of society. Wouldn't blaming men for your problems acknowledge that you are indeed weaker than them? Wouldn't blaming men and calling them rapists and pigs and Neanderthals acknowledge some great amount of self-esteem issues? Just a thought.

ON RELATIONSHIPS

I've never had any kind of relationship with a woman. So maybe I'm not really an authority on this subject, but I have observed a lot of women and have realized a few realities. Reality number 1. Women are crazy. Number 2. Women are stupid. Number 3. Women have extremely poor taste in men.

Now I'm being called a misogynist. I'm not. When I say women are crazy doesn't mean I don't think men are crazy. Equals. It's just that women tend to go more crazy then men do. When I say stupid I mean to say that there is this myth that women are smarter than men. This is just not true. By observation I have noticed that women are just as stupid and conversely just as smart as men. We're the same. Women are only really superior to men biologically; saying this any other way is just sexist and being condescending. I do not mean to put down women. I mean to bring men up. Equals. Yes. You can be sexist towards men. This is overlooked a lot because women seem to have cornered the market on feeling like a victim. Equals. Saying men are weaker and dumber is simply trying to make yourself feel better by making someone else feel worse. We're equals. Men are just as good and as useful as women. The worm has turned has it not?

Coming to poor taste. Now this is true. You may call me a misogynist regarding this because this comes from personal experience mixed with loneliness in a large vat of bitterness. I see women all the time dating these really asshole guys. Real bastards. I've seen women trapped in hateful marriages and relationships. I've seen women complain about how their boyfriend doesn't get them and how he abuses them physically and mentally and yet they continue to keep dating the same douchebag. This is something I just cannot fathom. It seems to be like this to me: If a man is standing in the middle of a street and a rampaging bull comes running angrily towards him what would that man do? He'd run his ass off and get out of the way. Same situation what would a woman do? She'd stand still believing she could turn the bull into a cute little puppy dog by changing him through some weird feminine magic. Now this just doesn't fucking work. Don't try to change your man. Men do not change. We don't like women who try to get us to change. We tolerate it because you allow us to fuck you but deep inside? We hate it and we resent you for doing it. If your man's a prick dump his ass and look for someone better. Don't date the bad boy. After all what is a bad boy? Bad. Many of you seem to have this obsession for dating someone your parents will resent. What the fuck is this about? This is just teenage rebellion that grown women have carried forward into their early to mid twenties. They date a string of idiots and morons, then when they've been physically and mentally broken down enough by this asshole they come looking for the "nice" guy. Why not just cut through the horseshit and go for the nice guy directly instead?

Now I'm not saying this to direct attention towards myself. Hell if there is a woman reading this she already thinks I'm an ignorant doofus and most likely stopped reading long before reaching this point. I'm not a nice guy. I'm not an asshole either. I'm not writing this for me. I'm writing this to maybe reach some women who will maybe see some shred of truth in this and wont dismiss it outright as the rantings of a "misogynistic" lunatic. There are some things which may be clichéd and stereotypical but are very true. I'm writing this for every woman I've seen with a moron guy attached to her arm. I'm writing this for every woman who's been beaten by her boyfriend and did not drop the guy like a sack of bricks. Please.

Fuck.

James Brown died on Christmas day.

Fuck.

It's just going to get worse from here on.

James fucking Brown.

Fuck.