Only in India Department

3 o Clock in the night/early morning/late evening (based on if you are normal/insomniac/college grad student).

That's when it started.

The grandmother of all cacophony.



Apparently, it signaled the onset of Bonalu - a festival celebrating whiskey and pot.


Yep, you read that right, the men get drunk and the women become potheads.


Honest.


Seriously.



You still don't believe me? Just go out and see.


You will witness hordes and hordes of women all loitering with big ass pots on their heads.


Anyway, to come to the point, 3 AM Sat night it started and continued continuously till 1130 PM Monday.


From what I have figured, its something to do with either Shiva or one of his wives.


Now from what I know of Hindu mythology, Shiva is the original pothead, and he sure as fuck would not have liked blaring music continuously for more than 40 hours. It might safely be assumed that an ass-kicking of epic proportions would have been forthcoming.


It can also safely be assumed Shiva never did, does not and will never give a shit about Jai Telengana, so playing Jai Telengana songs every 5 minutes does not help anybody.


And talking of Jai Telengana, purely judging by the way they organise and conduct their religious festivals, this lot won't be able to organise an orgy in brothel.


And they want to run a state.

I am NOT CRAZY; My Shrink had me Tested

Yes people

Its Esteemed Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion 0 Fat Uncle Cheapo 1


You see, the Esteemed One has always claimed that I am crazy, and that I should see a psychodoc, who will give me electric shocks and all. 


Having been enormously depressed lately due to the, amongst other things, the continued absence of a top hat or a viking helmet in my life, I finally decided to go bug a shrink.


So, it was time for mano y shrinko.



He asked me why I am bugging him. I told him because everybody is mean to me and that girls keep saying ewwwwwwwww. So he told me, "well you are spectacularly ugly, so what do you expect".

So I told him I am a decent, kind, generous, honourable, honest person.

And so he told me "so what, you are still stupendously ugly, and that's all that matters". He then asked me "whether I have ever considered using Fair and Handsome".

I replied saying am I a man or am I the Great Indian Chunkubaaz or Bhanu Pratap Pritam.


He then diverted the discussion towards my work. I said I am quite successful and respected and appreciated at my workplace. Then he adviced me to work 24/7 365 and my problems will be solved.


So I told him, am I human or am I a QuisLex employee?


Then he asked me about my relationship with family. I said they love me but dislike me since I am a loser. he said that he can empathize with my parents. He stated that had I been his progeny, he would have disinherited me long ago, since a loser like me cannot be good for the family name.

I agreed.


Then he asked me about my friends.


I said that since I am totally useless, I only have a handful of friends and that they pity me. He said "how you have even 1 is astonishing!"


Then he picked up a card and asked me to describe it.


I said that's a kangaroo pummeling Gary fucking Neville.


He picked another. I said that's a menage-a-5 involving Moby Dick, Moby Hump, Crybaby, Wellbeloved and a Tripod.


He picked another. I said that is an ice cream.


He said hmmm.


He then asked me about my likes and dislikes. I said I am a supporter of Chelsea during the Champions League.



He prescribed me 2 anti-depressants.


So, in conclusion, now I have a medicine which, amongst other things, is used to cure
premenstrual dysphoric disorder

And whose side effects include difficulty becoming aroused, erectile dysfunction, lack of interest in sex, and anorgasmia (inability to achieve orgasm), genital anesthesia, loss of or decreased response to sexual stimuli, and ejaculatory anhedonia. It seems that although usually reversible, these sexual side effects can last for months, years, or permanence after the drug has been completely withdrawn


Yep, that's exactly what I needed.

Mirror Mirron on the Wall, who is the greatest Roman of them all?

Lets face it, that damn Eternal City has been producing great individuals like a BMW production line. But amongst this plethora of greats, who can be crowned the greatest of them all?


We can start off with Horatio (not the drunk lackey of Hamlet nor the highly irritating cop from Miami)...the lad who stood on a bridge and said "Vos volo nonnullus , adveho adepto nonnullus" [You want some, come get some]. Mucho testicular fortitude of course, but he can't be the greatest on account of being an utter nutter and complete bananas.


Then we have old Julius and his bosom buddy Pompey.


Well Pompey is disqualified for  choosing the wrong side.


Julius on the other hand cannot be considered because...well let's face it...all that he did was

a. Beat some Celts (everybody does)
b. Make the Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys..well...surrender (more or less on par with some dude claiming to raise the sun....lets face it, its one of them rules of nature like:

what goes up must come down, 

the sun rises in the east, 

women say ewwww to Fat Uncle Cheapo

and the Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys surrender)

and c. Bonk Cleopatra (everybody did)

So, in conclusion, nothing special really ...and so Julius is disqualified.


Octavian is more complex case. The man founded the bloody Roman empire. Immortality is guaranteed. But then he did betray his ally Cicero. Betrayal of an ally is a heinous crime. It separates the men from the Kingshuk Ukils. And so Augustus Ceaser is disqualified.



Nero - Setting fire to Rome - ok, burning Christians for light - well it was the favourite pasttime then, so ok......but playing the violin??!!!! nopes, that's just not right, so disqualified

Caligula - On the plus side, he made his horse a priest (and it is alleged that the horse was perhaps the best priest the world has ever seen...certainly the least corrupt and hypocritical)...on the minus side, he prostituted his sisters, that's as wrong as the existence of A of the B...so disqualified


Ovid - He was kicked out of his own city/country and ended up in Romania.....can't really be treated as the greatest Roman.


So, at this point you might be asking who? Who is it that is the greatest Roman of them all?


Well, it is pretty evident isn't it?



He used to sell rubber ducks from his apartment. Now he is one of the richest men in the planet.


He is friends with one of the most, if not the most, bad ass politicians of all time.


And he is the owner of the greatest and most carefree and the sheckshiest club of all time.


Ladies and gentlemen (who am I kidding, I have 1 regular reader)...so Pooja Sancheti, I give you


Roman Abramovitch.

The Mysterious Affair at Arihant Ashray

or

The Curious case of the Multitude in the Night Time


Well, a couple of weeks ago, Fat Uncle Cheapo and the Esteemed Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion were watching some quality television, late in the night, when all of a sudden there was a multitudinal shout of "Reshu!!!"

Now, being a Nutter, the Esteemed One naturally and obviously inferred that somehow someone was looking for Fat Uncle Cheapo. Now, just how the word Reshu in any way, shape or form resembles either Fat or Uncle or Cheapo is anybody's guess. 


Anyway, when the cacophony refused to die down, the Esteemed went to investigate.


And came back and informed Cheapo that apparently some lass called Reshmi has locked the door and is refusing to open it, thus preventing aforementioned multitude entry into their domain.


Speculations ahoy!!!!


The Esteemed One set the ball rolling by proclaiming that it is a clear case of suicide.

Cheapo argued that it might be a case of alien abduction, and that it was a governmental conspiracy to hide the story. "The truth is out there mum" he was heard to mutter.


The Nutter countered by saying "Aliens, smeliens! If not suicide, then an African tsetse might be involved."



Cheapo argued that maybe the lass was a victim of murder, and since all the doors are locked from the inside, it possibly involved a monkey and a blowpipe.


Nutter refuted by claiming that if it was murder, then rather than a monkey and a blowpipe, it might have involved a ninja and a raygun which when pointed towards the heart, stops it from pumping.


Further theories discussed included the possible use of arsenic, pygmy poison, cobra venom, hypnotism (thereby forcing victim to take her own life), coconut oil, mime artists and the spontaneous combustion of both mind and body due to the incoherent ramblings of that non-sentient blathering fool A of the B.  


Suffice to say that this entire discussion was taking place just in front of the agitated multitude, with the winsome twosome sitting on chairs only a couple of feet away from the action, happily gulping down copious quantities of ice cream . For some reason, the multitude kept giving them awfully dirty looks. 


Having failed to elicit any response from 'Reshu', multitude then decided to procure a ladder from somewhere. Now far be it for the Cheapo to accuse other personnel of being slightly on the rotund side or their actions as being chuckleworthy (the words chimney, pot, kettle etc would be flung around by the critical intelligentsia) ..........but one of the few universally constant joys of life involve fat people trying to climb a tottering ladder.


Well as it turns out it was neither murder, nor suicide, nor alien abduction. It wasn't even a case of exposure to A of the B.


It was, put simply, a case of Singhanapallitis...a disease where even the fucking Armageddon would fail to wake a person up from slumber.


The earliest known patient was Kumbhakarna. Other famous patients include the men who had slept through

• Kurukshetra
• Hannibal's invasion of Italy with pachyderms
• Porus's dimwitted defence strategy of using pachyderms against Alexander
• Alexander's destruction of Babylon
• Genghis Khan's destruction of everything
• Alaric's sacking of Rome
• Battle of Hastings
• Battle of Agincourt
• Saladin's capture of Jerusalem
• Austerlitz
• Nelson kicking Bonny's arse in Trafalgar
• Wellington kicking Bonny's arse in Waterloo
• Gettysburg
• Pearl Harbour
• the Blitzkrieg
• St Petersburg

The disease has been named by scientists to honour Midas, who once slept through an hour of Fat Uncle Cheapo calling, knocking, pounding and bellowing at the top of his lungs.

Lucky Bastards

All ye lot who know me know that in the annals of luck, you can't beat A of the B.



But its not only him, there are some other entities who have been as lucky as..well...Fat Uncle Cheapo's alter-ego.



All Cheapo wants is to get reborn as one of the following



A pet pig in a vegetarian community/farm - No bathing ever and continuously eating as much as I can!!!! Can you imagine the "great success"?



A half-hippo half-chupacabra in the LH of CIEFL during the late 90s, early noughties...you know why


Hugh Hefner



A conquistador with Cortez...seriously, how many times do you get to be worshiped as gods?


The Army Chief of Staff of Switzerland


One of the Indomitable Gauls


The Foreign Minister of Canada or New Zealand or Bhutan


Vladimir Putin


Gimli, son of Gloin


George Washington



Phineas Fogg


Chewbacca


Any of the Louis - from I to XV




But this being Fat Uncle Cheapo, he will probably end up as



A chicken...anywhere


A half-hippo half-chupacabra in the LH of CIEFL during 2010


Reincarnated again as Fat Uncle Cheapo


An Inca warrior a couple of years after Cortez's arrival


The Army Chief of Staff of Poland (during early 20th century)


A legionary in one of the camps


The Home Minister of Lebanon or Afghanistan or Somalia


Whoever is going to stand against Vladimir Putin in the elections


Balin, Lord of Moria


Robert Lee


Quasimodo


Jar Jar Binks


Louis XVI