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According to this I die on May 13 2036. Satisfying to know I'll never have to put money into retirement plans. Don't bug me again dad.

Here's a selection of Bart Simpson's( darn, he'll still be 9 in 2036) chalkboard gags.

Cursive writing does not mean what I think it does
Grammar is not a time of waste.
A trained ape could not teach gym.
I cannot hire a substitute student.
I will not sleep through my education.
I will not fake my way through life
"Bart Bucks" are not legal tender
Funny noises are not funny
This punishment is not boring and pointless
Mud is not one of the 4 food groups
Adding "just kidding" doesn't make it okay to insult the Principal
The Good Humor man can only be pushed so far

I did not learn everything I need to know in kindergarten
I am not my long-lost twin
The truth is not out there
There was no Roman god named "Fartacus"
A trained ape could not teach gym
I will only provide a urine sample when asked
Sandwiches should not contain sand
A booger is not a bookmark
Teacher was not dumped -- it was mutual

I WILL NOT CUT CORNERS
" " " " " "
" " " " " "

Underwear should be worn on the inside
I do not have diplomatic immunity
There are plenty of businesses like show business
I do not have power of attorney over first graders
I am not a lean mean spitting machine
I was not the inspiration for "Kramer"

Paris

The first stop was the monument that's representative of the city itself. You'd think that something that's so overexposed would leave you knowing exactly what to expect, but the Eiffel Tower still takes your breath away. And the view from the top is something else!

I made all the predictable stops; Arc De Triomphe, La Defense, Champs Elysees and several McDonalds. Talking about predictability, staying at youth hostels always ends up being fun. After a day when you think you don't have a drop of energy left, its amazing how you can spend the late night drinking with people whose names you can't pronounce. It was well past two when we finally hit the sack.When I woke up, my dorm-mates had turned a little unfriendly. They accused me of snoring! I told them I was just practising the French 'R', but it's an untrusting world out there. Despite that little sore point, for all the budget travellers to Paris, Deppe recommends the Aloha hostel.

I spent almost the entire Sunday at the Louvre. Sure enough, I paid a visit to the most famous resident, Mona Lisa, and call me a philistine but my first impression was of disappointment ('Its so small'). If it wasn't for all that I've read about the painting, like the divine proportions, and the painting being an androgynous self-portrait, and if it wasn't for the tens of people jostling to get a closer look, or that it was the only item behind bullet proof glass, I'm sure I would have walked past it without a second look. I think I was subconsciously expecting the real painting to evoke the kind of jaw-dropping that the Sistine chapel, for instance, inspires. But despite her enigmatic smile and eyes that follow and all, all I could think was that the lady needs to enrol for aerobics. However I can now confirm what Dylan said "Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues, you can tell from the way she smiles". That apart, I must say with a little help from the audio guide, the Louvre is mindblowingly engrossing.

More pictures.

God verdomme!

Right about now, my social life is about as happening as Mordechai Vanunu's. Being single on Feb 14th just rubs it in. How I long to be in Bangalore, celebrating Valentine's day the traditional Indian way; by burning greeting cards and terrorising wayward college kids. Man! Am I just being paranoid and delusional or has everything been falling apart over the last couple of weeks? I'm not just talking about all those embassies going up in smoke. For one, there's my job! Almost every day I forget to take my brain along to work and I do just fine. Its depressing. If I wasn't such a greedy pig I'd give away my salary in charity. What's scarier is that I did not suffer the weekend-is-over blues on Sunday evening. It is an all encompassing ennui. As a direct consequence I find myself suffering from a huge bout of blogger's block. So if you see this post end abruptly...

Stealth

Did you know that there is actually an award for the worst performances in Hollywod called the Razzies (motto- "Cremating Cinematic Crap"), which are handed out the day before the Oscars? Almost every Madonna movie wins one of these, Tom Cruise is an eternal favourite and Stallone is a confirmed hall-of-shamer with 8 wins.
However there are a couple of things wrong with the Razzies:
° They are not serious enough.
° The actors, bloody killjoys that they are, never come to collect them.

How do you, in fair justice, punish something as hideous as the movie ‘Stealth’? What the hell was Jamie Foxx thinking when he signed up for it? Did he lose a bet? Did they kidnap his mom and hold her at ransom? After Collateral and Jay, THIS???

Just like they appreciate an actor's performance by giving him/her an oscar, they should also symbolically rap them on the knuckle by taking away one for every two bad movies they make. Not unlike the negative marking scheme in NTSE. Even if that means that Adam Sandler(or Vin Diesel for that matter) would need a miracle, a brain-transplant and several births to break even.

the "save the earth" tag

Do everything mentioned here..
...and
* Avoid using polythene bags, humvees and nuclear weapons of all kinds. Trust me on the plastic bags. Its damn easy to refuse them.
* Turn veggie. 7 pounds of grain are needed to make a pound of beef! Stick to poultry if you need meat while you sip on Old Monk rum.
* Kill as many chinese medicine men as possible. The points you accumulate can be encashed for virgins in heaven. (That was a sad bait, but I've heard people still fall for that). Rule applies for Jap whalers too.
* You don't have to turn Amish or Hasidim, but there are some simple restraints that can help too. Turn down the room heater for instance. Most of the times sweaters do the job just as well.
* Make less childrens I say!

I'm yet to do the math on Toilet Paper vs Water. Results later.

the 'my music' tag

I terminate the tag chain right here woooohahahhaha.

I got tagged by - Jax.
Total volume of music on my computer: About 6 GB
Title & Artist that I last bought : X&Y - Coldplay.
Song I am playing right now : "Time Stands still" by Rush

Five+ Songs that I like/have been hooked onto
Janis Joplin - "Down on Me" (The woman's a genius.)
Porcupine Tree - "Drown With Me"
Cranberries - "Linger"
David Gray - "Babylon"
Van Halen - "Could This Be Magic".
Eric Clapton - "Let It Rain".
Morphine - "Scratch"
INXS - "Suicide Blonde"

TODO: title comes here

Just as the winter and it's short days were bringing in a mind-numbing monotony into my life, Gunds gave me an idea that has brightened up things a little; Swimming! I've always loved it and the only reason I don't do it more often in Bangalore is that I never managed to do a single length at the Sankey tank pool without killing a couple of kids. (At the risk of sounding like the typical irritating NRI) It's so bloody crowded! In stark contrast, the neighbourhood pool here is so much bigger and has so few people using it. The most notable thing is the unwritten lane-usage rules. The first lane is strictly for socialising housewives, happily exchanging gossip as they duck-paddle from end to end, while the eighth is for the pros who glide like porpoises. I made the fourth all my own.

Apart from inspiring me to start swimming again, Gunds also passed me some knowledge that has vastly improved the quality of my life; the recipes for Dal Tadka and Rajma Masala. If you are sneering at me or thinking that this qualifies me for the first lane of the swimming pool, I say 'to hell with you and the gender stereotypes'.

Now that I have firmly established my credentials as a guy free of all gender bias, allow me to betray you by talking about the australian open this time. Boy! Is the gender gap closing fast or what?

What can I say about the women’s champion except that she reminds me of a young Mrs. Doubtfire without her make-up and fake jobs. Don't we all expect a little feminine grace in the ladies' game?

Federer dude, you are *this* close to being my all time favourite tennis player. And I'm sure when you retire from the game you will make Sampras's records look pedestrian, but DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO CRY AFTER EVERY GRAND SLAM YOU WIN?