"'Truth is strange," you know, "stranger than fiction' - besides being more to the point" - Edgar Allan Poe

January 24, 2006

Are these not the most trippy-hippie plates you've ever seen?

The usual problems that I have when I want to meet my friends after sundown, is that they live halfway across the world. All of them. So when I finally got back in touch with this friend who lives like a hopskiphalfajump away, the self-induced vision of a Pi-faced cinderella (or is that a cinderella-faced Pi? Um.) running off at the stroke of midnight just faded away. And it was good. Bonding in the colony club, bloody cheap food (and good too!) and banter about what's been 'up'. It was nice.

But the plates, wowzah hippie. And the experience of trying to eat biryani on those is quite sublime.

It was turning out to be an interesting weekend after all. A whole afternoon-evening on saturday in Mojo's with Duh-Boyz (snark), tricking the DJ into playing Roobaroo (In Mojo's?! Man, he got pissed.) and heading for BTM with MukGanj; getting together with the bangy-party after so long (and dear lord, I can actually tolerate them now. Hell, I actually even like them. Times, they change.) Also put a whole late night ride through B'lore after a really long time. Chicken at Imperial, Tea at Savera, and a bunch of photos that are quite surreal (Yes yes, mukka, will upload. Don't get your knickers in such a twist.)

Funny thing though. These boys are still 15. And how do I know this? Consider- they're not drunk, and yet they'll take out the Basic Instinct DVD and FF straight to the, er, tit-ilating scenes. This would be enjoyable, sure, if it only wasn't for the fact that there were eight sexually frustrated software engineers lying down on three matresses. Ugh. Mixed mental images that Shiv/Power didn't help with his damn running commentary.

Anyway, suffered a sardine-sleep, and headed back home early in the AM, where our adventure begins. The aunt was cleaning out the house. This, as we all know, is deadly dangerous, since some memories of childhood are best left forgotten. Let's see what got hauled out-

-Plastic vampire teeth
-Dr. Wack-o, my all time favourite toy in the whole world. Wanted to write a whole blog on it, but decided all I'd do would be to talk on and on about the mad scientist figure. You see for yourself.
-Assorted handmade greeting cards made by the ohtheyrecute kids of the house.
-The "If I was a dog" poem, scribbled 50 times on crumbling paper by a 12 year old delinquent (Er, me)
-Oil crayons, still in pristine condition. Considering what could be done with them. Any ideas?
-A recorded tape which had, amongst others, "Where do you go" by some gay boyband trio, "It's my life" NOT the JBJ version, and "Dr. Jones", Aqua. Double Ugh.

And yeah, then met up with Sriram, as mentioned. Thanks to him, now have seven seasons of SouthPark, and movies I've never heard about. Goood life. Now if only I get time for the hajaar things I've planned this week. I foresee self-imposed insomnia on the horizon.

2 Comments:

Pat said...

Congrats on Mr. Saarang, yo.

Pi said...

Um, thanks. Yo right back at you! Hooha!

Er.