To the lady it may concern:

If you are reading this, you have most likely locked yourself in my bathroom. I apologize for not saying the following to you personally, but this sort of situation happens often enough that my neighbours have complained about the noise of me talking through the door. Hopefully, this pamphlet will answer the questions you likely have and encourage you to come out of the bathroom.

First, I told you plain and simple: “I have a homunculus.” You didn’t have to stick around after that. I’m kind of surprised you did. What the hell went through your mind? Why the hell would I say that if I didn’t really have one? It’s certainly not funny. It’s a fucking weird thing to joke about.

Second, when I invited you up to my apartment, I reminded you about the homunculus. Again. “Remember, I have a homunculus.” Didn’t any alarm bells flash then? How did it slip past your guard twice? What is wrong with you? Why did you not ask about this homunculus I kept talking about? There must have been dozens of opportunities over the course of the evening! Did you think I was talking about my penis? That’s even weirder than just talking about my homunculus!

Third, I guarantee that he will not bite you. He simply gnashes his teeth upon meeting a stranger – like a chimp will bare their teeth to intimidate a potential threat. He is harmless, and had you not locked yourself in the bathroom you are currently in, he would have smelt you and grown accustomed to you by now.

Fourth, it was a gift from a friend. A friend I wouldn’t even consider a friend anymore.

Fifth, when I say “harmless,” I mean he will not intentionally harm you – I do not mean he is hygienic or healthy. Obviously, he has escaped from his jar, and he often eats things off the floor when I am out of my apartment. While I might ask you to not be afraid of him, I would not ask you to not be wary of him and minimize your contact with him.

Sixth, no, he does not have a name, nor will he ever. I dislike him enough even without an identity.

Seventh, I do not know where the friend got him from. It was a “hey, can you hang on to this while I’m gone” kind of thing. I don’t know when he’s coming back, and it would be rude to simply get rid of it.

Eighth, I do not know if there are lady homunculi, or where I would get one. I have not done any research into their existence or history. I only know the basics of homunculus care.

Ninth, I assure you, I am not offput by your panicky episode, and am still willing to sleep with you tonight.

Tenth, the homunculus is in no way involved in my sex routine. I am offended you might even think that, and am upset by the series of insinuations you have wordlessly vollied at me since I first mentioned the homunculus. It bodes poorly for any future, post-sex relationship if you are going to think such thoughts and lessen your opinion of me for them without even giving me a chance to defend myself. I assure you that poor communication, and not the homunculus, has ended the majority of my relationships.

Eleventh, if nothing else, you can leave through the bathroom window without having to see the homunculus again. You may contact me via telephone, email or Facebook and we can arrange to meet again in a different location.

(Hopefully) Yours,

Murray

Wish I had a nickel every time someone (usually a married woman) tells me:

“It’s about time you settled down and found a woman!   Why are you still single?”

(Yes, JOIN us, Friar.   You can’t possibly be happy, being alone?   Become assimilated!  Be ONE with the Collective!)

Well, there are plenty of good reasons why I’m still single, and I get tired of explaining my situation to all the breeding-couples.

So, in the interest of simplifying things, I’ll just list them there.

**************************************************

1. Standing There and Breathing
This is all any woman who’s even remotely attractive has to do, and guys will flock to her in droves.   And they’ll keep hitting on her until she eventually agrees to date one of them.

Therefore, the changes of any remotely-attractive women being available are extremely slim.
a

2. The Impossible Window of Opportunity
There’s often an extremely short time between someone getting over their break-up, and starting up a serious relationship again.   It’s sometimes measured in nanoseconds.

Though typically, the interval might be as long as a couple of months, where I could conceivably ask that someone out before they’re taken again.

But God forbid, if I miss that window by even a few weeks, I’m S.O.L.
a

3.  Reverse Attraction
Okay..say the stars are aligned, and I do manage to hit that rare time when I can can ask someone out…

Well, she’d still have to like me enough to say “Yes”.

(And that, my friends, is whole other ball-game.)
a

4. Pete Rose
The only available women I’ve been introduced to look like him.

(Look, I’m not so shallow that I’ll only go out with a Silicone Barbie Doll).

But is it too much to ask that a potential date NOT be mistaken for a DUDE?
a

5. Red Meat
I like it too much to give up, which only reduces my odds of finding someone.

Because now I’m incompatible with a significant portion of the planet who are plant-eaters.
a

6.  Kitty-Cats
Single women tend to have them.   But I’m horribly, horribly allergic.   Thus further reducing my odds.

Thanks, Kitty.

a

7. Caveat Emptor
At my age (40-something),  someone has typically been on the market for 20 years.

So it makes me ask, if someone is still available after all that time..WHY?

Now, before everyone screams at me, yes, I realize this also applies to myself!   (But that doesn’t help the situation, it only makes it more difficult. )

It’s like that great house down the street for sale, that nobody wants to buy.

Because there’s probably an ancient Indian burial ground in the basement, or something.
a

8.  Céline Dion
Too many women love this caterwauling diva, and chances are I’ll meet one of them.

And when she starts playing one of Céline’s CD’s,  I’ll forget to bite my tongue and I’ll say what I really think.

And it will be game over.
a

9,  Oprah
See Céline.

a

10.  Instant Dad
(Or, if you live where I do,  Instant Grand-Dad).

Call me a heretic, but not all of us are exactly thrilled at the prospect of going from zero to sixty, in five seconds.

Of course, all kinds of people tell me it’s not that bad, marrying into a family with grown kids.

But I can’t help but notice, they’re the ones who’ve already had the kids in the first place.
a

11.  Toilet Seats
Up or down, I don’t care.   I always check before I sit, and I have no pity for people who fall in, who don’t.

And this alone, for many women, is justifiable homicide.
a

12. Deadbeat Dads
Seriously, once I had someone bring this up within the first 5 minutes of conversation.  She went on about how her no-good ex husband was behind on child-support payments.

(Lady, if  you were  trying to make me run for the hills, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!)

Look, I’m just trying to get to know you.   I’m not quite ready to help pay for your teenagers’ college tuition.
a

12. Screaming Free-Range Hippie Children
Lots of people I know have them.    All I have to do is visit for a weekend, and its’ like an inoculation.

I’m then immunized, and want nothing to do with pair-bonding and reproducing for the next 6 months.

(And I’m thankful for that).
a

13.  SpongeBob Square Pants
I like to watch him.  But if was in a relationship, I’d probably get in shit for it, for being immature.

Then I’d be forced to watch something lame-ass like “So you think you can Yoga”.

And then I’d have to gouge my eyes out.
a

14.  The Granola-Mother Anti-Friar Sisterhood Movement
Who will no doubt be brandishing pitchforks and torches after reading this post.

Not to mention, warning the entire female population to stay away the hell away from me.

Posted in HBF by GGJake, the Administrator of HBF.

—–

hxxp://stevethornton.wordpress.com/2008/06/25/100-reasons-not-to-get-married/

100 Reasons Not to Get Married

Posted by stevethornton on June 25, 2008

This week we discuss the last of five “family matters” subjects in our Sunday gathering. And the last one is about singles, how to be single and satisfied. Sound like an oxymoron? Well it really is possible to be satisfied and single at the same time. My teaching on Sunday will offer some practical insight into how that might be possible. If you would like the entire message it can be accessed from relaxedchurch.com after June 30, 2008.

Meanwhile I want to introduce you to a list I happened to run across on Google Answers about reasons why not to get married. The list was compiled by Tutuzdad-ga – Google Answers Researcher. I love it. It is hilarious at some points and shockingly true at others. If you look closely there are a few numbers missing. They are the ones that were a little over the edge. Enjoy it and pass it on to any of your single friends or to your married ones who might wish they were single.

And if you have any additional reasons for not getting married that are not on the list, pass them on to us in the comment section.

“When you’re single…”

1.You get the whole couch to yourself.

2.There’s half as much housework, cooking, and cleaning to do.

3.You can watch whatever TV channel you like, without arguments.

4.You can get home from work at whatever time you like.

5.You get to eat the whole “meal for two” by yourself.

6.There are fewer important birthdays (spouse, kids, spouse’s parents,
etc) and no anniversaries to accidentally forget.

7.Without a spouse you have can still have a decent social life in your 30s.

8.You don’t keep catching every sniffle, cold and flu bug that your
spouse brings home.

9.You don’t have to live halfway between your workplace and your
spouse’s workplace.

10.Once you’re married most of your friends will also be married, and
coincidentally (like you, if you marry) they will mostly be staying
home with their own spouse’s instead of hanging out with you.

11.You can lie in bed in the morning for as long as you like.

12.Nobody sees what you look like first thing in the morning.

13.No soap operas (of sports shows, depending on male vs. female perhaps)

14.You can throw your dirty socks on the floor where they belong.

15.There’s no pressure to make the bed in the morning

16.You don’t have to worry about what the bathroom smells like when
you walk out of it.

17.You know where the bar of soap has been

18.You don’t have to put out Christmas lights if you don’t want to

19.When you’re single the lawn looks a lot better when the grass is longer

20.No one snores

21.Folding clothes?….No thank you

22.There’s no fight for remote control ownership.

23.Smelly socks and skiddy underwear are not that big of an issue when
you’re only washing your own.

24.On your way out you know that you’re shoes are right where you took
them off yesterday.

25.We can stay in the shower as long as we want and don’t have to
worry about conserving hot water for a spouse (or kids).

26.You can do laundry – or not.

27.You don’t have to shave if you don’t want to.

28.You don’t have to share your razor with anyone

29.You don’t have to buy Valentines/birthday/Mother’s day cards.

30.You won’t have anyone saying ‘you’re not going to wear that, are you?’

31.If your married and no fashion sense your spouse thinks you’re a
moron. If you’re single and have no fashion sense people think you are
eccentric.

32.Burning the food is not a big deal.

33.You’re not as accountable to anyone – if I want to do something, I just do it!

34.If you mess up your finances you have no one to blame but yourself.

35.You ALWAYS know EXACTLY how much is in your checking account.

36.You get the whole bed to yourself.

37.You can watch a late show on the bedroom TV and no one complains.

38.There are no unexplainable moods to contend with.

39.You have much more freedom to choose.

40.If there’s dribble on your pillow you know where it came from.

41.You never have to say where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing.

42.There’s no curfew.

43.You never have to hide anything in your shopping cart under other stuff.

44.You can spend all you want or all you have – it doesn’t matter.

45.You never have to worry about saying what you think, or having to
pretend you’re thinking something that you’re not.

46.You can be rude if that’s in you’re nature.

47.You can eat what YOU want.

48.You can join a gym because you want to, not because your spouse is
embarrassed by the way you look.

49.If you get fired from work you’re not considered a loser – just unemployed.

50.You can have friends over who behave outrageously whenever you want.

51.You don’t have to worry about what sort of food to buy and you can
eat whatever you want, whenever you choose.

53.You can listen to your favorite tunes in the house or in the car
and no one fiddles with the station or complains about your taste in
music.

54.You can spend all night on the phone without having to justify it.

55.You can go to bed when you please – or not.

56.You can read all night if you want to.

57.No one criticizes the condition of your car or expects you to wash it.

58.There’s plenty of space in the closet.

59.You don’t have to pretend that you’re interested in what happened
to your spouse at work today.

60.When you’re single there is a LOT less drama in your life!

61.You can make a mess – and leave it that way.

62.You can drink wine out of a bottle or milk right out of the jug
whenever you like.

63.You don’t have to write cards on anyone’s behalf for birthdays or Christmas.

64.You don’t have to excuse your behavior to a spouse.

65.You can pass gas at will.

66.When you’re single your opinion is always the best opinion.

67.You never have disagreements with what a spouse when you’re single.

68.When you’re single you can enjoy great performances of gay
musicians and actors without getting that “eye-rolling” thing from
your spouse.

69.You don’t have to listen to your spouse pant every time their
favorite actor or musician comes on the television.

70.When you’re single you can flush – or not.

71.You can put the lid up or put the lid down – it’s up to you.
Whatever you did last is exactly how it will be when you return next
time – just the way you like it.

72.Dragon breath in the morning is no big deal when you’re single.

73.If you’re single you can eat right out of the refrigerator and no one cares.

74.You don’t have to share ANYTHING with ANYONE.

75.No in-laws (this one speaks for itself)

76.Las Vegas is back on the list of vacation considerations.

77.Grow your nails, cut your nails – it doesn’t matter.

78.Pajamas or not – doesn’t matter.

79.Sweatpants and baggy shirt – no one cares.

80.The best parking spot is ALWAYS yours for the taking.

81.Cooking your own meals never ceases to be an adventure, and never
starts becoming punishment.

83.When you’re single you can paint the town instead of the house.

84.When you get home after work, you don’t have to start work again.

85.You can tell people you’re single and not have to lie about it.

86.You’ll never have to trade your interest in miniskirts for minivans.

87.You’ll save about $400,000 in grocery bills alone over the next 20
years if you stay single.

88.College? You didn’t pay for yours so why would you volunteer to pay
for someone else’s?

89.When you’re single you get to keep ALL the money.

90.When you’re single you get to hold the actual credit card and not just the bill.

94.You can use your own name at hotels.

95.When you’re single you can tell the person criticizing your driving
to “get out!”

96.When asked for their opinion, a single person can say “Yeah…you ARE fat!”.

97.When you’re single you can lick the spoon and keep on stirring like
nothing happened.

98.When you’re single you never miss all the things you used to be
able to do before you got married.

99.Married people with gray hair are thought of as old and tired, but
single people with gray hair are considered wise and distinguished.

100.Finally, when you’re single you can enjoy the silence any time you want

It’s a long time i write a word on my blog, as I was passing through another U-Turn in my life and it was not less than a transition period of life. After this transition, I was comparing the ideas of my mind pre and post the transition.

Same life but not as easy as before ,

Same world but new and different thoughts,

Same salary but different financial planning,

Same tasks but changed priorities,

Same intentions but mixed emotions,

Same surroundings but Indifferent feelings ,

Same bike but different routes and co-bikers ,

Same social networking sites but different status ,

Same movie halls but different timings,

Same shopping malls but different shopping preferences,

Same restaurants but different…….. ,

Same office but different moods to come,

Same friends but changed way of enjoying their company,

Same gossips but totally changed topics,

Same eyes but different approach to see,

Same weekends but different celebrations,

And a lot More same things but different ways to deal with them

Guys, I have not undergone a shock therapy or came out of a coma, I just passed a phase of my life which took my bachelorhood

I AM MARRIED NOW………………………………..!!!!

And i am remembering a song “Jane kahan gaye woh din…..?”

GOD bless all…..

.

Reading the article “Good or Bad, Hard to Say!” suddenly struck a chord with me regarding the deteriorating status quo of the institution of marriage in India and its fatal repercussions on men. Marriage, at least in India, has always been projected as “Tumultuous for women and blissful for men”. However, perceptions are seldom reality.

This has led to a social meme that when a marriage breaks, it does not affect the man and thus men are offered no protection from failed marriages the way women are offered. However, what a man goes through in a bad marriage can be understood either by the victim himself or men’s rights activists who understand a man’s pain.

Most men in broken marriages sulk in silence; feign a plastic smile to tell everyone, “I am fine.” While many unfortunate ones commit suicide as elucidated from the below 2 articles,

“Domestic Violence Claims 156,000 husbands.”

“Indian Men – An epitome of Sacrifices.”

However, as I said earlier also that it was “Good or Bad, Hard to Say!” That prompted me to write this article, let’s have a look at the brighter side of a failed marriage. But before we will glance at what a man in a broken marriage goes through and why does he do so?

I recall a famous saying here, “The best ideas come as jokes. Make your thinking as funny as possible” by David M Ogilvy. Often when men get married in India, they are chided with terms like “Now your independence is gone and you will have to take permission for every small thing.” Because of their upbringing, social conditioning and chronic hardwiring men tend to take such signals of potential harassment in a comically ignoring manner lest it befalls upon them as hard reality.

Often married men feel a lack of independence and are made to sacrifice their personal interests in the name of family responsibilities and the bait that it is a “Male Dominated World” and slowly they start feeling trapped in the marriage but given the current socio-legal dynamics and the fact that even the thought of moving out of marriage for a man is a crime, most men continue to suffer. However, as men are emotionally castrated since the age of 6, leading to a very poor emotional health for men, making them extremely vulnerable to emotional confrontations and this austere emotional health makes men emotionally numb wherein they fail to realize even self-abuse and subconsciously lead a life of denial.

It is a known psychological fact that women are emotionally stronger than males and respond better to emotional confrontations. The same has also been reported by a study reported in the UK Telegraph titled, “Women better at picking up emotions than men”. And in any domestic violence it’s the emotional aggression that precedes physical aggression i.e. the instigating females are treated as victims and the emotionally weak and disabled reacting males are punished.

Thus, men face double jeopardy in marriages – no relief from Domestic Violence and they are also victims of social bias fueled by stereotypic assumptions wherein they are projected as false perpetrators of abuse. All this makes it very difficult for the men entrapped in such situations to deal with the emotional turmoil.

And because of this often men miss their bachelorhood, time when they were free to do just anything they wanted to do and were not nagged at small things. However, golden days of past never come back and only remain as sweet memories.

Now let us have a look at what happens to men whose marriages are broken. The wife is gone and there is no one to nag the man and he can lead a life of his own wish. Some clear advantages of a wife going away:-

1. You won’t be asked, “Where are you going?” every time you step out of the house.
2. You won’t have to give details of every minute when you return home.
3. You won’t have to take permissions to go out with your friends.
4. You won’t have to explain every phone call you make/receive.
5. You won’t be forced to go shopping.
6. You would be free to flirt with females and have no guilt feeling for having an affair or two.
7. You won’t be required to cater to unwanted in-laws.
8. Your mother-in-law will not poke nose or make comments about every little thing you do.
9. You won’t be compared to your father-in-law every time you make a mistake.
10. You would be cooking only for yourself and not for the whole family of your wife and in-laws.

So, in a nutshell you’d be living a Bachelor’s life once again, having actually experienced what marriage is and someone telling you to get re-married would get a befitting reply from you.

For men in broken marriages life is “Bachelorhood Revisited” and therefore “Good or Bad, Hard to say!”, as it depends on how the man sees the broken marriage. Life is all about contexts, no truth is absolute. Every truth has a context associated with it. One can always switch the context to make the truth comfortable. If one continues to live in a disempowering context that life is ruined, marriage is broken bla bla bla, then suffering knows no end, however, a slight shift in context that a Broken Marriage is Bachelorhood Revisited will result in joy knowing no bounds.

Yes, it is a fact that majority of men in broken do face multiple false cases of dowry harassment under Section 498A, Domestic Violence and are treated as FREE ATM MACHINES in various alimony/maintenance provisions and as SPERM DONORS in child custody cases but let’s not forget, “There is no FREE LUNCH in life and everything has a price attached to it.”

So while men in broken marriages have the 10 odd reasons to cheer up, the cases and the harassment that they face is the price they pay for freedom post marriage and its break-up. It’s just that men are being forced to follow the “Pre-Paid Financial Model”. But again, the choice remains with men, accept it as a way of life or continue to suffer. After all, any individual’s happiness is in his own hands.

So my message to all the men in broken marriages – “Hey buddy, just enjoy your second bachelorhood.”

Vince Vaughn, one of America’s most outstanding bachelors, announced this month that is tying the knot with Canadian real estate agent Kyla Webber.  It seems that Vaughn’s movie, Couples Retreat, may have been therapeutic.  What happened to the lovable party animal from Swingers?  What will become of the Frat Pack? 

Interestingly, he told Oprah.com that he decided to get married not in order to find greater fulfillment, but to have kids.  He is actually sprinting towards responsibility.  He isn’t letting out many details about his relationship, but seems excited mostly excited about the new possibilities of a responsible life. 

On the other side, he has expressed ambivalence about whether the relationship is going to change him.  Good luck on that. 

The anthropological observation of importance here is that many men in America today are experiencing a mid-life crisis.  In contradistinction from a generation ago, however, these men are making moves towards resposibility, not irresponsibility.  Men today get married and have a child, where the boomer escapees were running from their wives and kids.  The midlife crisis today is not a new adolescence.  It is the late departure from it.

The political right – as in Kay S. Hymowitz’s recent article - continues the drumbeat for earlier marriages.  Certainly a wife and child and mortgage will force men to grow up.  Maybe.  But in a world where marriages are dissolvable as aspirin tablets, will this really do this trick?  Besides, men like Vaughn are going into marriage these days with the caveat that they don’t have to change their immature ways.  The a-woman-will-whip-me-into-shape days are over.  Which is why bearing children has become the real test of maturity.  Offspring are so, well, concrete.

In the end, maybe the only weapon the cause of maturity can wield is the promise of a better life.  Being a man is better than being a boy.  Attending a city council meeting is better than watching Southpark.  Wooing a woman is far superior to beating off to Maxim magazine.  Raising a child is more satisfying than being one.  If Vince Vaughn can come to that realization, why not others?

OK… I’ve been BLOGGING about some weighty stuff all week. Let’s give it a rest and have a little something on the Lite side. I’m not talking watered down beer here, either. My wife, who brings out the best in me has been gone for almost ten days. She returns tomorrow – strike up the marching band and light the fireworks! At first it was great to have some time on my hands. That lasted about 15 minutes. I soon began to realize how vacant life was without her. Now the fun part begins. Survival without her! I was lamenting to a friend how quickly the dishes were piling up in the sink and I didn’t know what do with them all! He replied with the wisdom of a confirmed bachelor, “You just have one bowl, one spoon, and one cup and clean up as you go… that’s it.” The light bulb went off in my head and I immediately thanked him for his deep insight into one of life’s most mysterious conundrums. Next came the sock and under-ware drawer. Now when the wifey is home this is a magic drawer, as it is always filled with one of the essentials of life… clean under-ware and socks! Something, however was desperately wrong. The contents in the drawer was rapidly diminishing with each day, until it reached a point where it was almost empty. Now came the hard part. I had to actually find where the washer and dryer were located in our house. This took some doing and after a three hour safari, I finally stumbled onto them, quite by accident. Now that I had the accoutrement’s of laundry cleaning at the ready, I sorted out the darks from the whites – I’m not a Neanderthal you know – and very carefully turned the magic dial to wrinkle free wash – whatever that means. To my delight the water began to pour in and after I added a half of cup of laundry detergent that was at the ready, I closed the lid and went off to watch the Golf match on T.V. While watching the fantastic exploits of Tiger Woods, I soon began to realize that my stomach needed some attention. At the commercial I rose from my “throne” and made my way to the “Frig.” Opening the door, I peered into that cold, vast, waste-land hoping to spy some left overs. Much to my consternation there were none. I was left to my own devices. I rummaged through our cupboards and soon produced a dusty can of Beef-e-ronnie. Now I haven’t eaten Beef-e-ronnie in I don’t remember how long. But get this – how times have changes – the can had a pop top! That meant that I didn’t need to use a can opener, which I didn’t have a clue as to the location of, and after popping the top I threw the contents into my single-washed-and ready-bowl and fired up the microwave. Ahhhh a feast fit for a King! Here King! (My fictitious dog is wagging his tail!) The bed hasn’t been made since the day she left. The fifteen pillows which festoon the bed have been stacked in the corner collecting dust. It’s not like anybody going to see them, right? There’s a pile of dirty clothes, in the corner, that my dog is using as sleeping mat – I have to get to those. There are more clothes hanging from the hooks on the closet door, the problem being is that I’ve run out of hooks. There’s an ant trail to the garbage can that needs to emptied, the recycling stuff needs to be taken out, the dog’s water bowl needs to be filled, and I wont’ mention the dust-balls peering out from underneath the furniture that are starting to glow…. As I write this I’m sitting with the same T-shirt that I’ve worn for, I think three days…. But I only wear it when I’m working out side, that’s OK right?. It’s lunch time and I’m hungry…. better forage in the cupboards and see what I can fry in the magic-micro! The good news is she comes home tomorrow! I feel like Robinson Caruso and I’ll be glad when my “Friday,” who is ever so much more than that, returns!

1. Take a pan and pour some oil in it
2. Put it on a flame
3. As the gas takes time to heat the oil, you cool off with a chilled beer
4. Since cold beer does not go with hot kitchen, retire in bedroom
5. You have lots of work to do later that involves cooking! Pop in a movie dvd to relax
6. Get engrossed in movie and fall asleep
(In the mean time, the hot oil has started smoking and managed to catch fire)
7. Wake up when the smoke alarm goes off
8. Call friend on phone to ask what is this buzzing noise and why wont it stop
9. On finally noticing the smoke, run into the kitchen
10. Take the hot flaming pan of oil – which by now has burnt half of the microwave – and place it on the kitchen floor
11. Leave a burnt mark in the kitchen floor with this brilliant maneuver, so perfectly round, it’ll make your geometry teacher proud and your apartment owner really mad.
[Its just a parting gift for him to remember you by ]
12. Blame friends for leaving cold beer in the house that almost caused the building to burn down!
13. Open another beer to relieve you from the stress you just had to undergo
14. Finish off all cold beer in the house to prevent another fire

The next lesson will be on how to kill the colluding cooker – be on time for the lesson and bring your own beer!

PS: Post inspired by THIS article by Abha!

As you can see, I’m desperately trying to recapture those fleeting moments of bachelorhood since Lauren is out of town.  Stick around and you can see my next trick, where I light my farts on fire.  It’s going to be a hell of a night, folks!

This busy season of my life is coming to a close.  This hopefully means I will be blogging more often, but one can never be certain.  Even though I’m busy, I have started work on an art project.  I can’t tell you what it’s about, but it will take roughly 3 months to complete.  I am very excited, and I see it coming together well.  You will also like it, trust me.  

Reading Howard’s blog on his “holiday” got me thinking about my own.  London for 6ish days and Glasgow for 3ish, I believe.  Lauren booked everything and so I’m not really in the know as far as the actual dates.  I’ve always had a guilt that I didn’t do as much in London in the 3 1/2 months I spent there as I should have.  I certainly don’t have many pictures from it, which I attribute to my subhuman manchild roommate Max, who invited some people he met at a pub over and one of the fat brits spilled liquor all over my nice camera.  But now that I am armed with another nice camera, I can at least take pictures of my excursion this time.  Perhaps I will post some when I get back.  

Also, here is one of my favorite facebook statuses I have seen in quite some time: I’m sorry you decided to piss away everything in life that’s important. I’m sorry I was never good enough for you. You’ll never walk me down the aisle, you’ll never see me become a doctor, I won’t even be at your funeral. In fact you’re already dead to me.

That shit is raw!

Ok, so not quite as drastic an adventure as this...

So another grand adventure begins.

Not for me, of course. Nope, I’m still just sloggin’ away with work, takin’ care of the taxes, doin’ the shopping. And most importantly, trying to stay sane as another milestone in the latest phase of the Crisis comes and goes. You see, today was the day Samantha set off for Connecticut. Her grand adventure.

Must be nice: go off for two months and do what you want to do. Oh, there’s work involved, sure, being down on the farm; hard work too. But it’s not like the responsibilities of a paying job. And then, having someone else take care of the house and all the chores and the cat during that time – pretty sweet.

Me, petty? Ya think?

OK, I won’t go into all the “discussion” that led to this day’s casting off, the crammed Honda setting down our street pointed toward the rising sun (or at least it was once she got to the highway). But suffice to say, I haven’t been a happy camper in the weeks leading up to this, as the faithful readers of C?WC? know. And it’s not just about being alone; it’s all that comes after this two-month separation, the icing on the cake of my concerns-and-desires foiled.

But maybe the time apart will be good for both of us, right dear? You get to fulfill a long-time dream. I get to do what I otherwise never do: ruminate. Ponder. And most of all, worry about the future.

Of course, this separation has its upside. For two months, I get to revert to my wild, swinging-bachelor, bad-boy ways. No straightening the kitchen towels! No wringing out the soap in the dish sponge! Hanging the toilet paper so it falls from the back, as God intended! Keeping the bedroom doors open all the time – yes, both of them, damnit! Man, this is gonna be great!

But then, there is a big downside: no car. Now, I don’t normally drive that much in the city, preferring to live the urban lifestyle on foot, bike, and CTA. But with the car gone, it’s like a lifeline taken away. I know plenty of people here haven’t owned a car for years, if it all, but for someone who has owned one for more than 25 years…I know I will be jonesin’. And when does the craving finally get sated? In six weeks, when I drive a standard for the first time in years, in a tiny rented car on the narrow streets of Italy, with crazed Dago drivers honking and shouting at my every hesitancy. And my mother by my side, screaming in panic at every turn.

Nice.

But all that is so far away. Right now, again, always, I have to try to get through each day. Do my work, go to The Real Thing, feed the cat, ignore the pains, forget about the move. The play is a welcome diversion, as I’ve said before, and I have people coming to visit, and my trips, near and far. I’ll actually see Samantha in just a little over 3 weeks, so that’s not too long of a separation (he says after less than 12 hours have passed since her departure…). And by then she may have decided organic farming is her life calling, and we will have our own little Green Acres moment.

I can’t wait.

A former classmate of mine is getting married tomorrow and she posted the oddest update on Facebook, that she’ll be “single until Sunday.”  I know this was her coy way to telling everyone she would be getting married on Sunday, but it came off as a come-hither to males and it made me think of men who think it’s OK to sleep with a prostitute at their bachelor party because, hey, enjoy sex while you can!  Wink, wink . . . cringe?

Let me say to the speechless forms that give you the option only of being single, married, divorced, or widowed that there is another option.  Really?  It’s called being in a relationship.  So if you’ve been engaged to someone for a day or a year or even just mutually decided to be monogamous, I think that would mean that, no, you are not in fact single.  Sorry, guys and gals.  It doesn’t work that way.  And if you think it does, you should question why you cling so dearly to your single status.  “Ah, those were the days.”  Really?  Then why are you marrying?  Cling and claw at the last vestiges of your youthful freedom.

Ah, but none of this applies to the ever enchanting Carla Bruni, who can say whatever the hell she wants.  She reportedly doesn’t believe in monogamy and who would, being married to a hothead like Sarkozy?  But she insists she is “faithful to herself.”  I’m in love, but I think it’s progress as far as sweet and blissful fantasies go, as she’s over forty, keeps true to her brunette roots, and supposedly prefers casual clothing, like . . . Dior?  Ah, but how can she always look so perfect and be so effortlessly alluring?  It’s as if a secret she keeps to herself makes her smile and sure of who she is.  Check out her website here.

Sweet dreams are made of these

OK, back to reality.  I find lusting after people I don’t know so unbecoming.  And the fact is, I do believe in monogamy.

Is your closet overflowing with clothes you don’t wear or clothes that don’t even fit, and you don’t have the time to get organized.  

The month of April I will be running a Campaign on tips to getting organized.

Get your closet from looking like this….

TO THIS…..

While the “change” came to America , a different kind of “change” creeped into my life. A “change” which was just the natural conclusion of the consummation of life. A “change” where i was loosing company of like minded people,slowly and silently being pushed into a minority by the desertion of the “faithfuls”. These people at various stages of my life have been my companion , my mentor .From childhood , through adolescence into adulthood and now one by one they are leaving me all alone by getting married.

The year before last had isolated cases with a couple of good friends leaving the ranks of bachelorhood voluntarily or under paternal pressure to go the “family way“.But last year was unusually bad. Just like the recession and housing market debacle wiped away the equity of the major banks , similar tremors were felt across my social circle. It was eroded.

I lost a “room mate” who shared my rent. I lost a school friend (senior in college ) and haven’t heard from him since he got married. I lost a childhood school friend and then a maverick cousin and am on the verge of losing someone real close.

Not that am not happy for all these married or would be married  souls,it just that when I see people with whom i went to school or to college, with whom i played cricket all day long,with whom i exchanged comics, with whom i spent nite outs “high” on music and booze, deliberating the intriguing questions of life . People whom i would call at any point of time to tell them about my freaking frustrations,insecurities,concerns are all calling it quits.

All this takes me to a pertinent point where am forced to introspect.Is it time for me as well to cave in to the inevitable threat posed by reality or can i buy in more time to continue to live in a delusion ?

PS: Congrats to Gautam,Dharam and Dixit (IIIT Hyderabad),Sachin Seghal and kunal tiwari (Inductis), Sachin singhal and GR (you know who u are ).

Q: What does your home say to you?

A: Everytime I get home, I scream “Honey, I’m hooooome!!!”. Unfortunately, I live alone and the honey bottle in the fridge is aware of this. I imagine that bottle of honey let’s out of an unconcealed sigh of despair, and tells everyone else in the fridge who cares to listen – “When will that guy grow up and get hitched to someone?”

Dumb answer, you think?

Won me 250 AED (Rs 3,375) worth of furniture from a call-in contest at the local radio station.

Joy! Joy! Joy!

–

On an unrelated note, here’s a nice one:-

Barry Marlow married Stephanie Mary.

They had a daughter.

They named her Rose.

Rose Mary Marlow.

–

Lindsey went to Jacksonville over the weekend for her BFF Taya’s birthday (taking the red eye on Friday night and flying home Sunday night.  Would your best friend do that for you?  Let’s all take a moment to reassess the state of our friendships), leaving me alone in our apartment for the first time since she moved in.  And you know what, it was a little weird!  I mean, it was also kind of awesome playing bachelor again, but it’s sort of like going to Vegas in that after a couple of days the novelty has worn off and you’re ready to go back to your life again.  But I got to do all the fun stuff I used to do before Lindsey moved in, like watch football and basketball and not feel guilty about hogging the TV, nap, do some cleaning and straighten up the apartment, sleep in as late as I want… uh, I guess “fun” is a relative term.

In other news, I can’t believe the year is almost over.  I just got used to writing ‘08 on checks!  (Hahah, why is that always the joke people use?  And checks.  They seem so quaint.  People still write checks for things, right?)  After 5 years I finally ran out of checks and have to reorder some more.  At this point I’m only writing one check a month for rent, so my reorder of checks should cover me for the next 20 years.  I was thinking of ordering a fancy personalized background, something that really conveys my personality to the people at the leasing office.  Like, every month when they see my check, the one with the bald eagle next to the Statue of Liberty with the American flag in the background, I would hope that it would make them smile and remind them that America freaking rules.  Well, it’s either that or ‘Nature’s Majesty”.

How can you tell Sara and Evie aren’t here?  Because I just ate four steaks for dinner.

Four.

Read Part I of the story here…

Gradually Mr. Mouse’s routine changed. He’d come into the kitchen, select his choicest food, eat, relax, then eat some more, hum a nice little song, take a nap, and then eat some more again! Until one night, when the overworked human in the house decided that she needed some coffee! She walked in, little suspecting the mousy invasion; and found herself face-to-face with a heavy-built, rough-looking, cunning mouse. Mr. Mouse who was taken aback at this unexpected intrusion gathered his senses and scampered away! Unfortunately, the cunning human had enough time to trace the mouse’s route and she decided to fortify the kitchen.

The following night, Mr. Mouse returned to find that it was almost impossible for him to enter the kitchen. He angrily assailed the wood of the door with his fangs, and made an opening big enough for him to enter! No human was going to stop Mr. Mouse from reaching the food that was rightfully his…after all he was the one who discovered the delicacies, didn’t he? So he went in, partied all night, and when the human entered the kitchen the next morning, she was appalled to see an unrepentant Mr. Mouse giving her a now-you’ll-see look!

As you probably have noticed, Mr. Mouse was a transformed rat. He was no longer a sweet little bachelor who enjoyed his moonlit nights chewing the newspapers for fluffing up his couch! His nocturnal parties had changed him into a fat, slow, and greedy pig of a mouse. He had begun to see himself as Mr. Invincible! He now had the map of the kitchen in his little head – the kitchen was now his turf!

That night, Mr. Mouse once again sauntered in the kitchen. There was something that didn’t seem right…the door was open! “Oh so they’ve decided to give me the right of way into the kitchen! Good! They’ve realized my importance!” The heavenly smell of buttered bread assailed his senses twisting them out of reason…he rushed towards the bread piece and snapped it up! Snap! “Now what was that? Did I break my teeth? Let me check it out.” Mr. Mouse turned around…to see that he was caught…bread-handed!

The human picked up the little cage, and swung it up! Mr. Mouse curled his tail around him…his confidence evaporating, leaving him cold. He closed his eyes and prayed…until he heard the sound of the cage-door opening! He scampered out, into the cold water of the drain. He looked around, trying to recognize the place It was impossible for him to find his way back to his comfortable little pad!

“Hey! Are you alright?”
Mr. Mouse turned around in his daze. The pretty face of Ms. Mouse emerged from the haze!
“You live here?”
“Yes, in the North Drain Avenue…but hey, I think I’ve seen you before!”
“Don’t you remember…I am…”
“Oh! I recognize you now – you are Mr. Mouse!”
“Yes…I am.”

The smart Mr. Mouse quickly assessed Ms. Mouse’s worth as many times his own, and realized that if he could steer things his way, his fortunes could be looking up again!

“I had refused to marry you.”
“Yes, I remember!”
“But then I realized that I was wrong! I missed you. I pined for you and then turned to food for solace. This is why I’ve put on weight. But I realized my error, and after a long and tedious search, I’ve finally found you. I am here today to ask you if you’d marry me. So, my darling! Will you marry me?”

Ms. Mouse paused before she answered. She had seen Mr. Mouse being released from the mouse cage and she knew what Mr. Mouse was playing at. She smiled at him enigmatically.

“Mr. Mouse, I think that it’s a bit late for you in life to come around. You see, I am happily married and I’ve just given birth to our second litter! I am sure that you’ll be able to find happiness and peace, in your bachelorhood!” said Ms. Mouse, who hopped on a rotten wood boat and waved him goodbye.

And so, a fat and unhappy Mr. Mouse stood there with water swirling around his fat little feet, wondering where he went wrong!

Read Part I of the story here…

Mr. Mouse lived in the cupboard on the terrace. His well-furnished pad was in the left corner of the cupboard, right behind the generator. Mr. Mouse was a bachelor. Bachelors, as you know, are not really bothered about making their place nice and cozy…but this wasn’t true of Mr. Mouse.

You see, after a heady but inconclusive affair with Ms. Mouse, he had decided to steer clear of the female kind. Ms. Mouse wanted marriage followed by a cute litter of little mice…but Mr. Mouse wasn’t ready to settle down. “I am a free mouse and that’s the way I want to live my life,” he said. So after a brief live-in they decided to go their own separate ways! Thus, for him bachelorhood wasn’t a short, fleeting affair; it was a state of being that would last him forever. This led Mr. Mouse to become an effective housekeeper. He had but one life to live, and he was going to live in style! He wasn’t going to be tied down into marriage!

Living in style, to Mr. Mouse meant a nice, fluffy mattress made of soft canine hair, a couch made of newspaper shavings, a window overlooking the terrace garden, and of course, a huge mountain of mouthwatering delicacies. The mountain, in his imagination touched the top of the cupboard, but he realized the impracticality of having a mountain of food that large and lowered his goal to more achievable levels – a mountain of food just twice as high as him, but of course, with a sizable proportion of his favorite nuts!

Food wasn’t really a problem for Mr. Mouse. For some reason that he didn’t want to delve deeper into, he would always find food on the terrace, including his favorite peanuts. So Mr. Mouse would usually complete his daily chores early on in the evening, and then sit on his bed near his gothic window chewing the newspaper pieces to add more fluff to his couch. All in all, life was good. There was enough to eat, nibble, and chew! What more does a mouse want?

Unfortunately, as Mr. Mouse sat near his window chewing upon his most recently acquired peanut, he came upon the same question. The answer sort of popped up in his little head! He wanted more! He propped his head up on an elbow, crossed his legs, and looked at his mountain of food. It had peanuts and it had dried bread pieces…there was nothing else! Once he had ventured into the kitchen and seen many different kinds of food! He would love to taste all of those, and of course, add them to his mountain!

So Mr. Mouse zeroed upon a new goal, and decided to pursue it with single-minded determination. The next night, Mr. Mouse left his comfortable abode and checked out the kitchen. The kitchen opened in the terrace garden and fortunately he could find a small opening to wiggle his lean frame in. Once inside, he was struck with the abundance and variety of food, and he decided to stock up. So he worked hard that night, and the night after that, and so on for many more nights!

But then Mr. Mouse became a little lazy. He had already stocked up for the winters and he didn’t have any more space, so he decided feast on the delicacies right there on the kitchen table! Now this was fun! He didn’t have to break his back carrying the stock from the kitchen to his pad…so he ate, wiped his moustaches, and waddled out patting his stomach that was beginning to reflect his prosperity.

Read the Part II here.

If you want to rent a flat in Mumbai, take care you don’t belong to that very worst minority: the single man. Aravind Adiga at the Guardian’s Comment is Free:

Shabana Azmi, an Indian actor, recently kicked up a stir by claiming that Muslims cannot easily buy homes in Mumbai. This may well be true: but as someone who recently looked for a place to rent in the city, I assure Azmi that there is a category of person even less wanted in this city than the Muslim. I belong to this category.

Mumbai’s real-estate market suffers from a perpetual shortage of good, affordable housing. Landlords are picky. The lack of any real anti-discrimination law in the city means that the rental market is a bigot’s paradise. Some landlords rent only to non-Muslims; some turn down Hindus; some permit only vegetarians in their flats. But almost none of them will gladly rent to a bachelor.

In the rest of the world, unmarried men are called by their proper, varied names – singleton, gay, divorced, celibate – but Indian society still lumps them into one Victorian-era category: the bachelor.

More:

10 Gadgets for Guys Who Hate to Cook (But Love to Eat).

(h/t:  Instapundit)