Three weeks ago today, I asked my dear love-to-sleep-in husband if he would get up early on his only day to sleep-in and go with me to the park for my veggie co-op at 8:00 am.  He was nice and said yes.  The co-op is called Bountiful Baskets and is such an amazing deal… $15 for a laundry basket full of fresh produce… if you don’t mind getting up early on Saturday morning.

As we’re driving there, Rick delivered a speech about an unexpected bill that came and the freeze that was currently slapped on Crosby spending.  Hey, the co-op HELPED save money!!  It is good to be informed.  I was heretowith informed. Secretly I was hoping to be taken out to breakfast, but those thoughts were dashed after the speech.  Oh well.

After picking up the bountiful basket, we were heading back to I-17 and saw several garage sale signs that sucked us in like gypsies to a fountain full of tossed coins.  The first stop was not inspiring to me.  Neither was the second stop, even though I found some Mason jars for science experiments for twenty-five cents.  Ready for departure, I was at the van waiting for Rick, when I noticed he was trying to get my attention in a covert fashion.  Head nods, throat clearing, undecipherable silently-mouthed words.  What could he have possibly found at this old folks garage sale???  I meandered over to his location and got a close up view of his eyeballs bulging from his head.  He obviously thought he had hit pay-dirt, baby.  All I could see were some old metal airplane signs.  “Great!” I surmised sarcastically, “More junk to put in the garage.”  Rick whispered, “The guy went into the house to get some more aviation stuff!”  Imagine my excitement!  I felt no need at all to do a jig.  I could tell Rick did, but was refraining.  Out came stacks of books…. more metal signs… 8×10 glossy black and white photos… postcards… and two huge metal boxes of slides.  ALL of vintage airplanes.  Rick started asking the elderly gentleman about the collection.  Seems it belonged to his passed-away old buddy and he was unloading it.  With every new photo and flight training book, Rick was positively salivating… with eyes bulging and eyebrows raised… trying to convey the glory of the moment without anyone but me witnessing this jackpot.

I was standing next to my thrilled husband reviewing the “unexpected bill…. spending freeze” speech I had just endured.  It had left Rick’s mind temporarily.  As Rick is known to do, he talked the lovely old folks down to $50 for all the airline paraphernalia.  But he didn’t have $50 cash on him.  He asked where our nearest bank was and we were off in a flash to the ATM.  As soon as we got in the van and shut the doors, Rick started spewing joy unspeakable and gobs of glory about the collection.  He explained that “we” could sell it on eBay and make a bundle (“we” = me.)  What could I say?  I knew nothing of the value of dusty old airplane books from the 40s…. and hundreds of slides of airplanes that don’t fly anymore… not my idea of an eBay goldmine.

Ok, my thinking has since changed.  The first book (of 25 in the box) sold on eBay yesterday for $89.  … a few hours later SIX of the 300 slides sold for $21.50.  I was starting to drool myself… and I believe my eyes were bulging.  Was that a jig coming on?  Larisa asked if I was going to do my eBay dance.  Maybe.  Some of the pictures are so old, we don’t have a clue how to  explain the planes… so Gramps, we might elicit your expertise!

Current garage sale score: Rick 1 – Linda 0.

I thought Batman would live somewhere exotic. I was never a Gotham fan, cost of living too high for my standards, and a little dark and depressing. I pegged Batman for someplace warm, beachy, but with a cool cave for hiding all the high-tech stuff he relies upon. But no, he likes Times Square. Maybe he loves 24-hour induced daylight? Tourists? Sbarro pizza? Or that guy in the diaper with the guitar?
I can’t explain it, but there he is.

He also likes my wife. Get in line buddy, everyone likes her.

One second we were looking for an overpriced meal, and then suddenly, there he was, my wife in his arms.
“Just make sure she’s back by the 8am trade show start time,” I yelled trying to melt into the crowd.

Lucky for me I had my trusty, 15-year-old point and shoot with built in flash. NAILED it.

Other folks said, “Wait, wait, wait,” as they blasted through frame after frame on their cell phones or digi-point and shoots trying like Hell to get something to turn out.

“Wait, how do I turn on the flash?”

“Wait, how do I turn OFF the flash?”

“Wait, it’s all blown out.”

“Wait, it’s too dark.”

“Wait, how do I turn on the video?”

“Wait, my card is full, I need to erase something.”

“Wait, my battery is dead.”

“Wait, the delay is killing me, I keep missing it.”

Poor Batman. His muscled arms trembling, sweat forming on his brow, his cool suit starting to itch. I could read his mind, “Come on people, get it together, for the love of Robin.”

“Wait, my phone doesn’t have a flash.”

“Wait, it’s blown out again.”

Defeated. Low. Exhausted. Wife firmly planted back on terra firma. A swoop of the cape and he was gone, a little of my cash in his trembling hand. Defeated by the technology, but cemented on tiny grains of silver.

This was a poignant moment for me and for the Caped Crusader. He was cool. He is cool. But I felt a tinge of sadness.

Nobody should have to work that hard for any decisive moment.

This lil ‘minor’ traffic accident thingy that Tiger had, is morphin’…

He ‘lost control of’ his Cadillac SUV, hit a fire hydrant and a tree; his lips were cut and he had blood in his mouth; his wife smashed a rear window with a golf club to get him out; he briefly lost consciousness.  He was found layin’ in the street with his wifey hoverin’ over him…(drama for yo mama?)    They say no alcohol was involved…

But there are unanswered questions:

1.  Where was he goin’ at 2 AM?
2.  Why was the ‘accident’ not reported for 13 hrs by Tiger’s camp?
3.  Why did he get all reckless comin’ out of his own driveway?

Officers supposedly tried to talk with Tiger yesterday, but his wifey told them he was sleeping.  They’re supposed to try again today.   I guess when you’re a celeb, you can just blow the cops off like that…

In a telephone interview, Tiger’s father-in-law, radio journalist Thomas Nordegren, told The AP in Stockholm that he would not discuss the accident.

“I haven’t spoken to her in the last few … ” Nordegren said about his daughter, Elin, before cutting himself off.   “I don’t want to go into that.”

Woods’ mother-in-law Barbra Holmberg also refused to address the matter.

“She doesn’t want to comment on private issues like these,”  Holmberg’s spokeswoman said.   Would these ‘private issues’ is be the fact that her hubby is dippin’  his 5-iron in another hole-in-one, and her marriage is crumbling? 

Just like I said, this sounds like an argument over the chicken head and the rumors, and Tiger was ’stormin’ out’.  Then he lost control of the Caddie.  TMZ is sayin that the scratched up, bleedin’  face and cut lips was from the wifey and not the crash…

We’re told he said his wife had confronted him about reports that he was seeing another woman. The argument got heated and, according to our source, she scratched his face up. We’re told it was then Woods beat a hasty retreat for his SUV — but according to our source, Woods says his wife followed behind with a golf club. As Tiger drove away, she struck the vehicle several times with the club.

Read more: TMZ/Tiger Woods

See- the rinse water is startin’.  First of all I said (again) this was about the piece. They reported at first that she was walin’ this golf club, tryin to help get her boo outta this wreckage.   NOW we find out (…I thought all along!)  that she was whuppin’ on his ass with the club, and that he jumped in the Caddie to keep from havin’ to handle the lil snow bunny or gettin’ his head beat in…

And now the chicken head is indignantly denying the rumor- which is a far cry from her first statements, where she is tellin’  anyone who’d listen to her,  ”fluck his wife; we’re in love.”

Tiger (or his peoples) must have had a word with her.
Waitin’ to see this worm turn…

LOVE LUST DECEIT ELECTRICITY
Short Fiction

A Sizzling Love Story

by

VIKRAM KARVE

There is a saying: “ If you decide to murder your husband you must never act in concert with your lover ”.

That’s why I did not tell Raj.

Or involve him in any way.

Not even the smallest hint.

I made my plans alone and with perfect care.

An “accident” so coolly and meticulously designed.

Precisely at 12:50 in the afternoon, the ghastly accident would occur.

And then my phone would ring – to convey the “bad” news.

And suddenly I would be a widow.

Free.

Liberated from shackles.

Released from bondage.

Then all I had to do was to keep cool, maintain a solemn façade, and patiently wait for Raj to return after completing his project in Singapore.
Then after the customary condolence period was over, Raj would propose to marry me – an act of chivalry, of sympathy, or even “self-sacrifice”.

First I would demur, then “reluctantly” succumb to the pressure from my friends and relatives, and accept – just for my children’s sake.

There would be nods of approval all around.

And soon Raj and I would be Husband and Wife.

The phone rang.

I panicked.

There is no fear like the fear of being found out.

I looked at the wall-clock. It was only 10.30 am.

Had something gone wrong?

I felt a tremor of trepidation.

The phone kept on ringing – it just wouldn’t stop ringing.

I picked up the receiver, and held it to my ears with bated breath.

The moment I heard Anjali’s voice I felt relieved.

“Why didn’t you come to the health club?” Anjali asked.

I’m not well,” I lied.

“Anything serious? Should I come over?” she asked.

“No!” I tried to control the anxiety in my voice. “It’s a just a slight headache. I’ll take a tablet and sleep it off,” I said cautiously.

“I hope Manish and you are coming over in the evening,” Anjali asked.

“Of course,” I said and put down the phone.

I smiled to myself.

That was one party Manish was going to miss. Probably they would cancel it and would be right here offering their condolences and sympathy.

I would have to be careful indeed.

And to hell with the health club and the painful weight loss program. I didn’t need it any more.

Raj accepts me as I am – nice and plump and on the “healthier” side, as he calls me lovingly.

Not like Manish who is always finding fault with me.

I know I can always depend on Raj.

He really loves me from the bottom of his heart.

I looked at my husband Manish’s framed photograph on the mantelpiece.

Soon it would be garlanded.

My marriage to Manish had been a miserable mistake, but soon it would be over and I would be free to live the life I always wanted.

I wish I didn’t have to kill Manish, but there was no way out – Manish would never give me a divorce, and if he came to know about me and Raj, he would destroy both of us, ruin our lives; for he was a rich and powerful man.

Also, I prefer to be a pitied widow rather than a stigmatized divorcee.

The plan was simple.

I had programmed a Robot to do the job.

The huge giant welding robot in Manish’s factory.

At exactly 12:45, when the lunch-break started, Manish would enter his pen drive into the robot control computer to carry out a maintenance troubleshooting check.

And then he would start inspecting various parts of the robot – the manipulator, end effectors and grippers – to cross-check their programmed movements.

It was a routine exercise, and I knew Manish had become quite complacent as the robot had never developed any faults so far.

But today it would be different.

Because I had surreptitiously reprogrammed the software last night.

This is what was going to happen.

At precisely 12:50 all safety interlocks would be bypassed, and suddenly the robot would activate and the welding electrode would arc 600 Amperes of electric current into Manish’s brain.

It would be a ghastly sight – his brain welded out and his body handing like a pendulum, lifeless. Death would be instantaneous.

Manish had been a fool to tell me everything and dig his own grave. A real dope – he deserved it!

It was a foolproof plan and no one would suspect since the program would erase itself immediately. I had ensured that. It would be an accident, an unfortunate accident.

Condolences, compensation, insurance – soon I would be a rich widow, with one and all showering me with sympathy and compassion.

And then I would wait for Raj to come back from Singapore.

And then, after a few days I knew he would propose to me, and I would ‘reluctantly’ accept and we would live happily ever after.

I looked at the wall clock. It was almost 11 O’clock.

Suddenly I began to have second thoughts. Maybe I should give Manish a last chance.

All I had to do was pick up the phone and ask Manish to rush home.

Feign a sudden illness or something.

But no! I tried to steel my nerves. I had crossed the Rubicon, and there was no going back. The tension of waiting was unbearable, but I must not lose my head.

I tried to divert my thoughts to Raj.

The first time I suspected that Raj loved me was when he didn’t attend my wedding. Then he disappeared abroad for higher studies and I almost forgot him. And one fine day, after almost fifteen years, Raj suddenly reappeared to take up a job in my husband’s factory.

And when I learnt that Raj had still not married I realized how deeply in love with me he was.

At that point of time I was so disillusioned with my marriage that my daily life was rather like sitting in a cinema and watching a film in which I was not interested.

Raj and I began spending more and more time together, and somewhere down the line emotions got entangled and physical intimacy followed.

Did Manish suspect?

I do not know.

Was that the reason he had sent Raj to Singapore?

I don’t think so.

We had kept our affair absolutely clandestine.

I looked again at the clock.

11.45 am.

One hour to go.

I began to have a feeling of dread and uneasiness, a sort of restlessness and apprehension – a queer sensation, a nameless type of fear.

So I poured myself a stiff drink of gin.

As I sipped the alcohol, my nerves calmed down.

Today was the last time I was going to have a drink, I promised myself.

Once I married Raj I would never drink – there would be no need to.

In my mind’s eye I could almost visualize my husband Manish sitting in the vacant chair opposite getting steadily drunk every evening.

Manish was an odd creature with effeminate mannerisms that became more pronounced when he was drunk.

He was always picking at an absurd little moustache, as though amazed at himself for having produced anything so virile.

How I hated the mere sight of him.

The very thought of my husband made me gulp down my drink.

I poured myself one more drink and gulped it quickly to steady my nerves. Then I had one more drink; and one more, when my cell-phone rang.

I shook out of my stupor and picked up my mobile phone. It was an unknown number. I rejected the call.

The cell phone rang again; same number. I looked at the number. 65….. – it was from Singapore.

Was it Raj? From Singapore? My heart skipped a beat. I answered urgently.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi Urvashi, how are you?” it was Raj’s voice.

“Where are you speaking from? Is this your new number?” I asked.

“No. This is Rajashree’s cell-phone,” Raj said.

“Rajashree?”

“Yes, Rajashree, she wants to talk to you,” Raj said.

“Hi Urvashi,” a female voice said, “Raj has told me so much about you.”

It was strange.

Who was this Rajashree?

I knew nothing about her!

So I said, “But Raj has told me nothing about you!”

“I know,” Rajashree said, “it all happened so suddenly. Even I can’t believe it could happen so fast – Love at first sight, whirlwind romance, swift wedding.”

“Wedding?” I stammered, shocked beyond belief.

“Yes. We, Raj and I, got married yesterday and we are on our way to our honeymoon, on a cruise liner.”

“You bitch! Give the phone to Raj,” I shouted, losing control, the ground slipping beneath me.

“Hey, chill out. What’s wrong with you?” Rajashree said calmly, paused for a moment, and spoke, “Raj has gone to the embarkation booth. Hey, he’s waving to me. I’ve got to go now. Bye. We’ll see you when we come there.” And suddenly she disconnected.

I stared at my cell-phone, never so frightened, never so alone.

I felt as if I had been pole-axed.

I looked at the wall-clock.

12.55.

Oh, My God!

The deadline of 12.50 had gone.

It was too late.

My blood froze.

The telephone rang.

I picked it up, my hands trembling.

“There’s been an accident, madam,” said the voice. It was the company doctor. “We are rushing Manish Sahib to the hospital. I am sending someone to pick you up.”

“Hospital? Tell me the truth,” I shouted hysterically into the phone, “Tell me, is he dead?”
“No. He’ll survive.”

Manish did survive.

I wish he hadn’t.

For his sake. And for mine.

For till this day he is still in coma.

And I know I will have to live with a ‘vegetable’ husband all my life.

It was a small miscalculation.

600 Amperes wasn’t enough.

But then the Robot is a machine.

My real miscalculation was about Raj.

LOVE LUST DECEIT ELECTRICITY

Short Fiction

A Sizzling Love Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2009

Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
vikramkarve@sify.com

http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com

Today is Guruvayoor Ekadashi.

My wife observes it by abstaining from eating rice. In the evening she will fast.

In the early morning, we all went to the Guruvayoorappan temple at Mayurvihar, Phase 1, in Delhi.

I wonder if Ekadashi (eleventh day after full moon/ new moon) is observed any where in the north India!

Divorce abroad is Valid in India

Please read the Below judgement and see how unsrupulus members of the Family of the First Wife tried to Misuse the Laws to harass the innocent husband, they were almost successful in the evil intensions but for the good judgement and sensitivity of the Supreme court.

Members of the First Wife who were trying to falsely implicate the husband and his family members should be dealt with sternly and given an exemplary punishment so that nobody  else dare to misuse the laws to take revenge in Family disputes .

The Text of the Judgement is below .

Pashaura Singh vs State Of Punjab &Amp; Anr on 13 November, 2009

        IN THE SUPREME COURT OF INDIA

           CRIMINAL APPELLATE JURISDICTION

           CRIMINAL APPEAL NO.2122 OF 2009

           (Arising out of SLP(Crl.) No. 5910/2006)

Pashaura Singh …Appellant  Versus

State of Punjab & Anr. …Respondents   JUDGEMENT

R.M. Lodha, J.

Leave granted.

2. In this appeal by special leave, the appellant has  challenged the order
dated May 24, 2006 passed by the High  Court of Punjab and Haryana. By the said
order, the petition  filed by the appellant under Section 482 of Code of
Criminal  Procedure for quashing F.I.R. No. 9 dated January 21, 2002  registered
at Police Station Sehna under Sections 498-A, 494,  506/34, IPC has been
dismissed.

3. Kamaljeet Kaur is a landed immigrant of Canada.  On May 7, 1997, she married
Pashaura Singh Sidhu – appellant – at village Ghall Kalan, District Moga,
Punjab. She  left for Canada on May 15, 1997. She sponsored her husband  and,
accordingly, Pashaura Singh went to Canada in 1998.  They stayed together for
few months and then relations  between them became strained. Kamaljeet,
thereafter, started  living separately in Ontario. Pashaura Singh applied for
divorce and dissolution of marriage before the Supreme Court  of British
Columbia and a divorce judgment was passed in his  favour and their marriage
stood dissolved with effect from  February 8, 2001. After the dissolution of
marriage, Pashaura  Singh came to India and remarried on January 2, 2002.
Pashaura Singh went back to Canada with his newly wedded  wife and both of them
have been residing there.

4. On January 21, 2002, Kamaljeet’s brother Balwant  Singh lodged a first
information report being F.I.R. No. 9 at  Police Station Sehna against Pashaura
Singh, Hakam Singh  (father of Pashaura Singh), Randhir Singh (brother of
Pashaura  Singh), Charanjit Kaur (wife of Randhir Singh) and Harbans  Kaur
(mother of Pashaura Singh) alleging therein that on May  7, 1997 he performed
his sister Kamaljeet Kaur’s marriage with    2

Pashaura Singh; that at the time of marriage, according to his  status, he gave
rupees four lacs in cash, gold jewelry, utensils,  almirah, fifty-one suits,
five bags etc. but the accused started  harassing his sister Kamaljeet Kaur and
threatened to kill her if  she did not bring car, electronic items etc. and that
he has now  come to know that Pashaura Singh has entered into second  marriage
in the first week of January, 2002. A case under  Sections 498-A, 494, 506/34,
IPC was registered against the  accused persons and it appears that the police
submitted  challan against them in the court of Judicial Magistrate First
Class, Barnala.

5. Randhir Singh, Charanjit Kaur (Rajinder Kaur),  Hakam Singh and Harbans Kaur
filed a petition under Section  482 of the Code of Criminal Procedure for
quashing the F.I.R.  No. 9 and criminal prosecution against them. Vide order
dated  April 29, 2004, the High Court allowed the petition and quashed  F.I.R.
No. 9 dated January 21, 2002 registered against them  and all subsequent
proceedings.

6. Pashaura Singh by a separate petition under  Section 482 of the Code prayed
for quashing F.I.R. No. 9/2002    3

and the subsequent criminal proceedings against him but, as  noticed above, the
High Court by its order dated May 24, 2006  dismissed his petition. The High
Court in its cryptic order, while  dismissing the petition, observed that
Pashaura Singh has  married second time on January 2, 2002 while he was already
married with Kamaljeet Kaur and the aforesaid marriage has  not been dissolved.

7. Having heard the learned Counsel for the parties  and upon careful perusal of
the materials placed before us, in  our judgment, the order of High Court cannot
be sustained for  more than one reason. In the first place, the High Court
gravely  erred in observing that Pashaura Singh married second time on  January
2, 2002 while he was already married with Kamaljeet  Kaur and the aforesaid
marriage has not been dissolved. The  certificate of divorce dated February 26,
2001 issued by the  New Westminster Registry, Supreme Court of British Columbia
shows that the marriage of Pashaura Singh and Kamaljeet Kaur  stood dissolved on
February 8, 2001. As a matter of fact, this  fact is noticed in the order dated
April 29, 2004 whereby the  High Court quashed F.I.R. No. 9 and the subsequent
criminal    4

proceedings against the family members of Pashaura Singh. In  the affidavit
filed by Gurmail Singh, Deputy Superintendent of  Police in response to the
petition filed by the appellant under  Section 482 before the High Court, it has
been admitted that  during investigation on March 14, 2002 Hakam Singh had
produced photocopy of divorce certificate purporting to have  been issued by the
Supreme Court of British Columbia. The  observation of the High Court, thus,
that Pashaura Singh  married second time, although his marriage has not been
dissolved, is ex-facie contrary to record.

8. Section 494, IPC, inter-alia, requires the following  ingredients to be
satisfied, namely, (i) the accused must have  contracted first marriage; (ii) he
must have married again; (iii)  the first marriage must be subsisting and (iv)
the spouse must  be living. Insofar as present case is concerned the appellant’s
marriage with Kamaljeet Kaur was not subsisting on January 2,  2002 when he is
said to have married second time. Pertinently  before the High Court, along with
reply, the complainant  Balwant Singh annexed copy of an affidavit filed by
Kamaljeet  Kaur which states that she was not aware of the divorce    5

proceedings filed by her husband Pashaura Singh. However,  from this affidavit,
it is apparent that her husband has obtained  a divorce judgment. There is
nothing in the affidavit that divorce  judgment has been stayed or set aside. On
the face of the  allegations made in the first information report, therefore,
ingredients of the offence under Section 494, IPC are not  satisfied.

9. Insofar as offence under Section 498-A is  concerned, the High Court in its
earlier order dated April 29,  2004 in the petition filed by the family members,
observed thus:   “I have perused the First Information Report registered
against the petitioners.

              The only allegation against the petitioner is that they started
harassing Kamaljeet Kaur Gill for not bringing more dowry. No demand of dowry
has been made by the petitioners, nor is there any specific entrustment, as
alleged in the First Information Report of dowry articles to the petitioners.
Parties have divorced each other, as per the order of the Supreme Court of
British Columbia (Annexure P-1). Order is dated February 25, 2001. It is after
this divorce that Pishora Singh got married in India on January 2, 2002.”

10. Moreover, in the affidavit of Kamaljeet Kaur referred  to hereinabove, there
is not a word about demand of dowry or  harassment on account of dowry by the
appellant.     6

11. We have no hesitation in holding that the first  information report lodged
by Balwant Singh is manifestly  attended with malafides and actuated with
ulterior motive. The  prosecution of the appellant is not at all legitimate,
rather it is  frivolous, vexatious, unwarranted and abuse of process. The
appellant has made out a case for quashing the first information  report and all
subsequent proceedings pursuant thereto.

12. For the reasons indicated above, appeal is allowed  and order dated May 24,
2006 passed by the High court of  Punjab and Haryana is set aside. Resultantly,
F.I.R. No. 9  dated January 21, 2002 registered at Police Station Sehna and  all
subsequent proceedings pursuant thereto stand quashed  and set aside.

13. The pending applications stand disposed of.    ……………………J

                                          (Tarun Chatterjee)

  ……………………J

                                                 (R. M. Lodha)

New Delhi,

November 13, 2009.

Link Here :

http://www.indiankanoon.org/doc/174511/

The best golfer of all time has gotten into a serious car accident near his house early this morning.

He hit a fire hydrant and crashed into his neighbors tree, causing serious facial injury.

The world’s greatest golfer is now involved in a soap opera of monumental proportions following reports that Tiger Woods car accident occurred after a fight over Wood’s cheating on his wife.

The accident, which was originally reported to have left Tiger in a “serious condition” turned out not to be that serious after all. The hospital that treated Woods said in a statement that “Tiger Woods was in a minor car accident outside his home last night. He was admitted, treated, and released today in good condition.”

But here’s where it gets more interesting: reports claim that both Woods and his wife, Elin Woods told police that they had been arguing after Elin discovered that Tiger had been cheating on her with a woman named Rachel Uchitel…immediately before the accident. The suggestion is that Tiger stormed out of the house, and crashed his car while attempting to leave….at 2:25 a.m. in the morning.

Just because no soap opera isn’t complete without one last twist, there’s also rumors circulating that Tiger had been drinking as well, and police may be pressing charges over the accident.

Only good at driving on a golf course!

Tiger Woods was involved in a serious car accident this morning…he should have used a driver instead of a one wood !  Wait,  hang on, his wife did! She used it to smash the back window to get him out. Hmm, maybe she should have just used the door like everyone else! Golfer’s wives, so dramatic! And what was she doing with a golf club in her hand at 2 am in the morning (reading the Enquirer me thinks!)? And what was Tiger Woods doing driving at 2 am in the morning without a club? Doghouse, for getting all the relis Christmas presents at Walmart’s 3 for sale?

UPDATE: Well how the mighty have fallen. Seems Tiger was  chased by his golf wielding wifey poo Elin, who got wind of his little rumored affair, when the accident happened. Oh and evidently the injuries sustained were from her and not the tree. She scratched his face up before chasing him down the path swinging  a golf  club (probably a left handed one iron, can’t hit anything with them!) at his car. Awkward!

Psst No word on the condition of the fire hydrant but it doesn’t look good!

2nd psst John Daly rang , he wants his car back!

:: :: :: :: :: ::

Backed out of coffee with SD. Too many red flags for me. I saw myself ending up on the 6 o’clock news in a body bag. Like I said in a comment, I may be a horny slut, but I don’t have a death wish.

Looks like I’m meeting up with Ken on Wednesday though! Can’t wait to have his ripped ass pounding into me. He’s got a lot of fetishes though, not sure I can live up to them. Again, I’ve had a very boring sex life and I’m just now opening myself up to new things, but I have a very raw, animalistic, almost primal approach to fucking. I just want to get my pussy wet, maybe go down on each other and then fuck like crazy.

It’s probably going to be a couple of weeks before I can meet Matt and Christy, but that will definitely happen. This one I think I am looking forward to the most. I think I am looking forward to Christy the most. I’ve been watching a lot of soft core lesbian porn lately, and I’m so glad to be a woman. Our sexual parts are fucking stunning. It’s made me fantasize about sucking her breasts and licking her pussy – hopefully while her husband is licking or fucking mine. But yes, I am so ready for my first girl on girl experience. Thinking of tits has me all worked up!

Still working out details with some others…God, I’m a slut.

I still can’t believe I married my high school boyfriend in July. It has been 11 years since we are graduated and we didn’t see each other for 9 years of it! How did love survive… no, not survive, grow!? I actually have a couple of hypotheses:

1) If there really is “The One” or if really two people can belong to each other than he is my “One” and/or we belong to each other. Than it was only a matter of time that our lives crossed again and this time  never to split. (Hmm… is it too strong an argument?)

2) We indeliberately “shaped” each other with our criticisms as first boyfriend and girlfriend. You know, it hurts most when you are an adolescent. You define what you want to be when you are at those ages. And we really loved each other then. Not as sweethearts but as great friends. Romance came after. Then we were separated because it was time for university; separate universities. I had several other boyfriends and he had many (!) other girlfriends. And apparently, we couldn’t find what we were looking for. I know that I gradually became the lover he wanted me to be, and he became the lover I wanted him to be. Then, again, it was a matter of time…

Having a scientific background, I like it when I am rational. It is not to say I am not emotional, though. I am seriously emotional when it is rational to be so. An I am really good at rationalizing things (Well, you will find it out as you read more of my confessions!). Therefore, I stand closer to the second hypothesis. The best part is, both have the same result: I am a happy newlywed!

Oh, also an expat. An expat in Dubai. And this is where my daily struggle begins. No matter how happy you are, being a newlywed is a tiring and stressful thing. Adding to that, being an expat is not easy. So I am left with many things to complain, cry about and, yes, CONFESS…

We’ve been married for 16 years today. She is my ubuntu. My meaning. I am because we are. I can tell you how much I love her and never get even close to telling you how I really feel. How she makes me feel. How she makes me better than what I am. I can never tell you How I Love My Wife…

How do I love my wife? In so many ways…

I love how I never want to write about my love for her because I know that I can never say it just the way I want to. And how I know that I still wouldn’t be able to say or write it the right way even if I was more gifted than Shakespeare. How words can never tell the story of my love for her. Because words have boundaries.

I love how I travel all over the world and still eat in my hotel room because nothing is worth experiencing without her next to me. How every scene is so much more beautiful and every morsel tastes so much better when she can see it and taste it. I love how she doesn’t get why I eat alone my hotel room.

I love how she holds me and asks me what is wrong when I don’t know how to say what is wrong. When all that is wrong is that the world just got a little bit too heavy. And that all I need is her arms around me to make me feel safe and strong again.

I love how I listen to that stupid Hero song of Enrique and cry because I just want to be her hero. I just want to wipe away the tears. I want to kiss away the pain. I just want to stand by her forever. Because she always takes my breath away.

I love how she has to bite her lip when she laughs when I do my silly South African accents. And how she laughs with no sound and the tears runs down her face. And she’s laughing at my stupid jokes.

I love how she pretends to need me even though she is so much stronger than me. I know she doesn’t climb mountains. She will make the mountains come to her. And that they will just obey.

I love how she speaks with a “little voice” when she gets back from shopping and asks me “Don’t you want to help me carry?” And how I know there will be a little something in there for me.

I love how I try to be funny and tell silly jokes and how I peep at her to see if she is laughing. And how I carry on until I see the beauty of her smile. And the happiness in her laughter.

I love how I used to hate Tom Cruise for taking the best line with “You complete me”. But how I know he didn’t even get close. She makes me. Not complete. She just makes me. Me.

I love how she laughs and shakes her head and says “What am I going to do with you?” whenever I make one of my suggestive comments. And how I do it just to hear those words.

I love how people make fun of me for always talking about my wife whenever they travel with me. How they poke fun at me for missing my wife and always phoning her.

I love how I look at her and compare every girl I see to her. And how no one compares even if they are on the pages of magazines or in leading roles in the movies. 

I love how she is the centre of our universe. How she holds everything together and give meaning to our family. Stronger than gravity or any law of science.

I love how my smile gets bigger the closer I get to home. How I just want to run and laugh because I know she will be there and everything will be just fine.

I love how she asks me to tickle her back and that I have no hope in hell of getting one back. But how I don’t mind because I just love touching her.

I love how she wanted me even though she could get anyone she wanted. And how she stays with me even though she can get anyone she wants. 

I love seeing her walk and watching her when she doesn’t know I am looking. And how I still have to build up the courage to ask her out.

I love how her hand feels in mine when we walk with the girls. I love how I touch her while she’s walking and kiss her on her cheek.

I love how I tell her I love her whenever I see her. Even if I just came into the kitchen from the lounge. I love how she says it back. 

I love how my heart still races when I kiss her when we make out. How her lips make me forget everything that makes me mad.

I love how she had a picture of Sawyer from Lost on her screen and how she doesn’t know I have one of her on mine.

I love how she acts all needy when she wants me to get her some Coke or crisps. And how I love getting it for her.

I love how it sometimes feels as if I am going to burst because our love feels like it is bigger than the cosmos.

I love how she buys me the new Springsteen album even though she hates his music because I overplayed it.

I love how she used to remind me of Sinead O’Connor, but how Sinead now reminds me of my wife.

I love how she is the last person I speak to before I fly off and the first person I phone when I land.

I love how I still get butterflies when she reaches for my hand without her knowing she is doing it.

I love how she eggs me on to go play with the girls even though she knows it will drive her crazy.

I love how she is the first thing that touches my lips in the morning and the last thing at night.

I love how she holds me and looks into my eyes when she tells me that she loves me more.

I love how I know why John was clinging to Yoko like that on the Rolling Stones cover.

I love how she phones me 4 or 5 times a day even if I can only take a call or two.

I love how I know what it means to love someone more than I love life.

I love how I know every part of her body but still don’t know enough.

I love how she completes my sentences and makes more sense.

I love how she puts her hand on my leg when we go for a drive.

I love how she believes in me even when I have my doubts.

I love how I would rather be at home than anywhere else.

I love how I do everything just to impress her.

I love how I know real love because of her.

I love how she loves me.

I love how I love her.

I love her.

I love how I can write another million words and still not tell you how I love my wife.

_________________________________

I can write and write about my baby and never get enough or ever get close to telling you how I feel. Here are a few more about my baby and me:

Quick! Pull My Finger!

She Had To Wee

The Girl I Didn’t Like (or How I Met My Wife)

Ubuntu (or It’s Like Breathing)

My last few edits of Bergen and Jake.  Happy Thanksgiving.

The will be a preview post…because it is the day after Thanksgiving.

And the Friday after Thanksgiving, like each and every year that we have lived here, is marked my into the attic.

I have had two reoccurring dreams in the past decade.

(Well..three…but we can leave the Kristen Bell dreams for a completely different post.)

The the two dreams that I talk about are the two that involve my last breath on this earth.

The first is have this heavily used kitchen appliance blowing up in my face…

The second one is dying under one of many plastic bins of assorted garland, artificial tree limbs and Christmas lights at the bottom of my attic access door.

So…

If you do not see my words here any more, just know that I died trying to bring Christmas joy to my family.

It has been nice knowing you.

You’ve been in the air for almost the entire week and its time to go home, but your wife isn’t there when you get home- again. DO you consider it a special day when you get home from flying around the world? Is a nice evening at home with your wife too much to ask for? Has she been moody for no good reason lately, and even worse defensive about every little thing?

It doesn’t look good and especially since you’re an airline pilot, grounds for divorce are in her favor. Hey your never home and she’s lonely. It’s just a matter of time before she seeks warmth and companionship. So if you feel the ball rolling towards a possible separation you might as well put things in your favor. After all you’ve been working hard flying that plane till your eyes dry.

Alimony sucks, there I said it…Why do you have to pay her way when she’s the one asking for a divorce? Some woman can be absolutely ruthless and try their best to drain you out of every penny they can get their wicked little claws on.

There exist in this world software that can be installed onto a mobile phone that enables you to tap live calls, read sms messages, bug the room and track people’s locations by using GPS.

So take action and gather the evidence you need before the ball rolls into her court and in her favor, after all women don’t just make split second decisions. They think, feel and devise a plan …smart they are…and so should you be too.

Anywhere you are on this big blue planet we call Earth, Flexispy has access to vital call records whenever you need them. The secure web account details all records of the target phone’s activities. So no matter if your flying to France or down into the Maldives, wherever there is an internet connection you will have access to vital information.

Now that I’ve described the finer details of just what these mobile detective tools can do.I’m going to go over some steps involving the installation process. After you’ve chosen what level of power you need to keep track of what your wife is doing at home. Simply go to the Flexispy download site, which is a simple short URL. There you’ll see a box to enter your authorization code. After you enter the code and press ‘ok’, the Flexispy software starts to download automatically. After installation is finished simply restart the phone.

After you think about what options you would like to activate, enter the setup screen by punching in your secret code. This will take you to a menu where you must look for the ‘Monitor Number’ setting. Here you enter the phone number that will be used to make secret calls into the target phone. This is the most important part and also one of the most flexible parts. You can use any mobile phone number to access the target phone. The second most important step in activating the spy ware is to activate ‘Enable Capture’…this setting starts the data capture process of all activities, and relays them to either the monitor number or the secure Flexispy server.

See there really isn’t much to the installation at all. In a matter of days you’ll be able to see if your wife is the same woman you had first fallen in love with.

So while your out flying around the open skies, what’s your wife doing day in day out? Staying alone can get pretty lonely and she keeps mentioning some guys name she just met at work. Isn’t this the way it always happens to start out? Why do women always have a need to try and make illegitimate boyfriends legitimate by talking about them to you? I think they probably feel that if they are talking about them with you, that since you know about this guy, she must not be doing anything with him right?…Wrong! If you understand a woman’s Psyche’ you’ll understand that she’s trying to make a convoluted effort to justify her actions to you. By telling you about him, in her eyes she’s not talking to another man behind your back, it’s out in the open…But other activities are of course behind closed doors.

So even though you’re out flying around and can’t exactly receive phone calls in flight, Flexispy mobile spyware still enables you to keep track of your wife’s cell phone and tracks who she has been talking too as well as keeping records of all text messages. The mobile detective also tracks her location by using the phones GPS system.

All this information is downloaded to the Secure Flexispy web account for you to examine as soon as you touch down in the city of your arrival. Simply log into the Flexispy web account and view all the information. Now since you can’t tap her phone calls while your flying, there is a separate spy program from Flexispy that enables you to record her conversations onto a computers hardrive as they are happening.

There are three main flavors to the Flexispy product list, so I’ll start with the most powerful features first. Call Interception- this function allows you to tap into live phone calls as they are happening. When a call is in progress the spy ware sends an SMS alert to the monitor phone listing the phone number and name of the caller that is currently engaged in a conversation with your wife’s target phone. At this point all you have to do is call your wife’s phone and your call is silently patched in and you can hear everything that they are saying. In the event you actually have to use the same monitor phone to call your wife,simply send a coded SMS command to the target phone and the Call Interception feature is defeated allowing you to speak with her like every other time.

Next in line of mobile detective tools is the ‘Spy Call’ feature, this daft creation actually lets you bug the room the phone is in. So let’s say she’s laying on the bed and the phone is on the table next to her or even in her purse. Whatever is going on in the bedroom, be it a conversation or any other ‘activity’ that emits sound, will be picked up by the phone’s external microphone and sent to the monitor phone in real time for you to listen to. This feature allows you to see if she is really where she says she is by listening to the environment she’s in.

To actually see her location, Flexispy spy ware uses the phone’s GPS system to record location information. This information is then recorded on the secure Flexispy server and you can pull up a map from their website and see her exact location then and there. The GPS system has a full set of options allowing you to set the polling frequency as well as report times to the server. Resolution can be set from very fine intervals of 10 seconds to once every hour.

The next feature is a special feature that has been created out of necessity. Whenever the SIM card is changed the Flexispy software detects the change and alerts the monitor by SMS. The information sent includes the new phone number so the monitor can still track the phone’s activities.Just dial the new phone number and the software still functions as before and remains completely stable.

These four powerful tools allow you to keep track of your wife’s activities while you are gone, and gives you peace of mind, because the last thing you want is to have something in the back of your mind while flying a plane.

Husband – hey dear, I am logged in.

Wife – would you like to have some snacks?
Husband – hard disk full.

Wife – have you brought the saree.
Husband – Bad command or file name.

Wife – but I told you about it in morning
Husband – erroneous syntax, abort, retry, cancel.

Wife – hae bhagwan !forget it where’s your salary.
Husband – file in use, read only, try after some time.

Wife – at least give me your credit card, I can do some shopping.
Husband – sharing violation, access denied.

Wife – I made a mistake in marrying you.
Husband – data type mismatch.

Wife – you are useless.
Husband – by default.

Wife – who was there with you in the car this morning?
Husband – system unstable press ctrl, alt, del to Reboot.

Wife – what is the relation between you & your Receptionist?
Husband – the only user with write permission.

Wife – what is my value in your life?
Husband – unknown virus detected.

Wife – do you love me or your computer?
Husband – Too many parameters.

Wife – I will go to my dad’s house.
Husband – program performed illegal operation, it will Close.

Wife – I will leave you forever.
Husband – close all programs and log out for another User.

Wife – it is worthless talking to you.
Husband – shut down the computer.

Wife – I am going
Husband – Its now safe to turn off your computer

by siliconindia.com

I thought that I should take time, once again this Thanksgiving, to think about what I am truly thankful for. I know that most of my life I’ve neglected to think about this, let alone write it down. Last year was the first time that I ever really took time to do it. So, here I am to do it again. Much of this is probably the same as last year, but who cares. Who knows, maybe this will become an annual thing.

Thankful for…

1. My God and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and the salvation that I have by His gift of grace that He made possible by His blood that was shed on the cross. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God. (Eph. 2:8).
2. For my wonderful wife of 22 years and the fantastic mother that she is. She makes life a joy each and every day. She is a great gift from God also. May I cherish her more deeply and be the husband that God intends for me to be.
3. The blessing of 4 great kids who are all special, each and every one of them. God has blessed me so greatly here. I pray that I can be the dad that they need and that God designed me to be.
4. Family in general. Thankful that they are always there and always in your corner.
5. Friends. God has put some great friends in my life. I pray that I can be the friend to them that they have been to me.
6. A great church and church family. God has placed us in a church that is commited to teaching the Gospel of Christ and reaching the lost for Christ. Also, a church family that lives out their Christianity by taking time to serve others in many different ways. It is a church family that is committed to bringing glory to God.
7. The privilege of living in America and the freedoms that we have. I pray that God continues to bless this country. I pray for our leaders, that they will be men and women who will seek God and His guidance each and every day. And, as part of this great country I’m thankful for those awesome men and women in our military, that serve and protect our freedom day in and day out.
8. A good job that God has blessed me with. I thank God for the privilege it is to work and the skills that He’s given me. I pray that I do it as if unto Him.
9. God’s provision each day; shelter, food, water, clothing and the additional blessings that He has given.
10. God’s continuous teaching and working in my life. I find it amazing that God finds it worthwhile to keep trying to teach, correct and instruct me each and every day. I thank Him for what he’s teaching me about His sovereignty, that He’s in control, that He has a plan and that I need to trust Him completely. I pray that I learn to follow Him completely and surrender all.

Since it’s Thanksgiving, just take a little time and give it some thought. Don’t let it slide by another day, another minute. What are you thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Being married is a lot like having a roommate.

To promote a sense of domestic calm, and to prevent small rodents and insects from breeding in a dark corner of the living room, it helps if each person sharing the address does some form of houskeeping. One should be assigned  say, to clean the catbox, while the other cohabitor is assigned  trash removal.

In order for this system to work, each person needs to assume his/her duties  with a happy sense pride from working to create a warm and orderly home.

This  is how I think other couples live.

Not us.  No, DH is not a boor in the least.  He assumes domestic duties quite willingly.  In fact, he actually knew how to sort laundry when I met him.  Much to my surprise, it wasn’t until we were married when I discovered that I could kill a man by doing a load of laundry.

If I have a load of clothing drying, and he manages to beat me down to the basement, when he comes back up to the apartment, he invariably has the pale, wan look of someone suffering the dyspepia associated with coronary distress.

Holding up a red skirt and a pair of his white shorts, wtih the look that he just discovered evidence of some form of seedy indiscretion carried out in the backseat of his car, I know the lecture is about to start.

I smile patiently as I wait for him to proclaim his laundry edict: Clothes require proper laundry sorting. This is predicated upon  some weird calculus based on textiles and colors.  He explains as if I were a naughty school girl who spilled chocolate down the front of her school uniform,  ”I keep my clothes a long time, because I take care of them.”  (So, that’s it.  if left alone, he’d wander through life wearing the same, permanently grunged out tee-shirt from college.)  I know that highlighting this fact for him will totally undo the logic of his arguments.    So I am saving it up for later.

Instead, I wait for him to breath deeply.  This is how he punctuates his logic.  When he is finally oxygenated and calm, I point out that  my system is more logical.  I sort clothing items based on the number of quarters I have.

Absolute segregation, as history has proven, is totally overrated. At least in the dryer.  Really, none of our clothes or towels have suffered any damage–and  I just saved eight quaters by making  single load–proving how thrifty I can be.  Sadly however, washing really is a different story…Once, in my zest for thriftiness, I ended up taking 2 buses to get the the bank before it closed to score enough quarters to rewash one of DH’s dress shirts that he needed for an interview the next day.  Never mind the fact that I ignored forgot his request to drop it off at the drycleaners.  When he asked,  I rolled my eyes knowing how much moneyI could save by washing and pressing it at home.

Alas, it seems there isn’t much of a call these days for clown enginers.  I had to rewash the shirt more than a couple of times to remove the tie-dyed rainbow hues.

However, drying rarely poses the same danger.  Whites washed separately really have no issue with doing a shimmy party in a dryer filled with more colorful items.  In  fact, they probably enjoy the excitement of mingling with raspberry or turquoise blouses.   Doubling up on the loads saves me enough quarters to wash laundry sorted to the most presnikity of categories.

Unfortunately, such thrift has to be kept in the closet.  While other wives watch the clock to hide their affairs with the UPS man, or their afternoon cocktails and pain pills (I’m reading Valley of the Dolls), I make sure the laundry is done before DH gets home from work.

Cooking  I find is something else best done under the stealth solitude when DH is at work.  Why? If he’s present, he suddenly morphs into a prosectuting attorney as soon as I pull out a pot.

His ears prick up as his eyes  narrow.  For a minute or two, he sits silently as he watches me cook–which is a little too easy as the TV is across from the stove.    Our tiny living room-kitchen is suddenly transformed into a courtroom where the poor pepper corns are  put on the witness  stand:

“Can you explain to the courtroom, why an entire tablspoon of you and your little pals were loitering with the Coriander in the soup over there?”

This interrogation continue with each ingredient is chopped, stirred and added to the dish, culminating with the room-clearing, “Are you sure you need to saute that first?”

Oh, look!  He has shape-shifted from Michael Cutter to Jacques Pepin!  Do I risk dulling my prized chef’s knife?   Instead, I pour him a glass of wine and sotto voce, I ask three simple questions:

1.  Do you like my cooking?  “Of course…”

2.  Do you want to finish cooking this yourself?  “of course not, yours is better.”

3.  Have I ever poisoned you?

With this, he shuffles back to the sofa to watch TV.

Happy Thanksgiving!  I’m making chestnut stuffing.  I’ll post the recipe after I figure it out!  Meanwhile, I bought real chestnuts!!  Just like Paris–or NYC!   Here’s how I roasted them:

Normally, you score an “X” in the shell to let the steam escape.  I love my knives, and this would dull the paring knife.  So,  I put a chestnut on the cutting board and took the can of cranberry relish and WHACK cracked the shell thusly.  It works like a freaking charm–plus, if your DH is pestering you as they are wont to do–this is great fun as a form of theraputic release.

Place the cracked nuts into a rimmed backing sheet filled with water, soak the chestnuts for 15 minutes, drain and pat dry.

Put them in an 450º for 2o minutes until you can smell their fragrant yumminess.

Enjoy!