Hey you, Westerner!

Don't call me East Indian. Just because you're in the western part of the world, you don't start prefixing every country with an "East", do you? You don't call the Chinese, East Chinese, or the British, East British, do you? So don't call me East Indian. You might probably call people from the eastern part of India, East Indian, but we don't insist on it. So don't call me East Indian. Not because I mind being mistaken for someone from the eastern part of India, but for the fact that there is no such country as East India. It's okay to call people from West Indies, West Indian, because West is part of the name of their country. However, I am from India; the country being India. It's been a long time since the East India Company left my country. So address me as an Indian. It's not my problem if you have to be politically correct. Call the Native Indians in your country as Canadian Indians or American Indians. My country has been in existence for a lot more years than yours. So we are the original Indians. And you better just accept that fact. I'm sure if you were Canadian, you'd have a problem if I only called you North American, wouldn't you? Or how about if you were American and I called you South Canadian? I have blood that boils too. So don't call me East Indian. Or I'll start calling you names that would be far worse than just being politically incorrect.

Blahging

Okay. This is the weirdest feeling in the world. I’m staring at my blog and I don’t know what to write about. Now usually, I only write because some topic irks me or urges me to write about it. Today, I want to write for the sake of writing. I don’t have anything to write about. But I want to write. And I can’t. I’m pulling a complete blank. It’s like constipation. You know you’ve got to shit but it won’t come out. At least, in that case, there is the potential of something coming out eventually. See? This is what I meant. I’m talking shit, literally! I don’t know what to say. I’ve been scratching my head over this for the past one hour. I’m bleeding now and that’s due to my one-inch nails. It’s interesting that earlier, I always made sure they were cut. And then I came to this part of the world where people paid to stick on some artificial crap to pose as their nails! I found that rather preposterous. I’ve never really cared about being nice to the people here and so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to rub it in their faces.
You won’t believe the number of times females have gawked at me. “Are those real?”, I’ve been asked about a zillion times. It even took me a while to get used to the fact that they were only enquiring about my nails but my reply of “Yes” accompanied with a huge grin on my face sufficed as an answer to either. Nails. Intellectually stimulating indeed. Not that my writing is ever intellectually stimulating. I don’t think it’s meant to be. It’s really frustrating. This feeling. When you want to do something and you can’t. It’s like when you shift to a new place and you decide that it’s going to be a new beginning; that you’ll go to the gym everyday henceforth. And then you find out that there isn’t a gym within a 2-hour distance from your place. Now if I really wanted to, I could write about anything. I’m sure I could write an interesting essay about my lampshade or an erotic poem on hot men. Ooh! An erotic poem… Me likey!

A guy, a girl, a gay

That's not the title of the latest sitcom. That's my current living situation. And let's just leave it at that.

Sequels

Sequels are in. There’s Spiderman 2, Shrek 2. Sometimes they come with different names. The Mummy returns, Meet the Fockers. Sometimes there is more than one sequel. Matrix Revolutions, Batman forever. Heck, forget movies; there was even a WW II.

Anything that ends abruptly pretty much has to be continued. You don’t necessarily need a Schwarzeneggerish “I’ll be back” to tell you that. History repeats itself after all.

And thus I return to the blogging scene. It’s titled “Ms. V’s back – The return of the nonsense”. Coming to a web page near you.

(For those of you who are really slow, I'm back from vacation. You guys should have gotten the hint when I blogged on two consecutive days. That's just not possible from a fifth world country.)

Men, if you didn't believe heaven existed, Sweden is it!!!

More proof towards how this is a man's world...

Following is the article:

(Don't miss the ridiculous quote at the end!)

ADDING to its reputation as the most sexually liberal nation in the world, Sweden has just legalized looking up ladies' skirts!

In a nearly unanimous vote in the Swedish Parliament, the motion was carried 332 to 17. To celebrate the new law, the Parliament's second floor was replaced with a see-through glass floor, and women were invited to stand on the floor, wearing their loosest, widest skirts, with or without underwear. Men were invited to bring their cameras, stand on the floor below and look up.

"I was fully aroused for the next three weeks," gushes male viewer, Tor Lundgren, 24.

The women standing above the men were no less enthusiastic. "It was even more exciting than I'd imagined," reveals Christina Schollin, 32. "I chose to wear no underwear, and, well, I just felt this electric thrill run through me as the men stared up at me. I may just leave my underwear home from now on."

Lutheran minister Gunnar Bjoernstrand, 40, has made peace with the new law. "It was just a question of time before it became legalized. And, really, something harmless like this should not be a crime. Sex and the body are beautiful, natural things."

"When we appreciate and adore the body by looking up ladies' skirts, we are, to a certain degree, giving thanks to the creations of God, who after all made us in His image."

Seriously... I just don't know how to react to this one!!!

My, my!

My wandering eyes.......