Monthly Archives: February 2008

Whine, Valentine and poetry

Three cups of coffee and almost no sleep. We are not responsible for anything that follows.

So the Lou-puddle has tagged us. It seems we have to go through our archives, find five recycle-worthy posts, and link to them. Yesh. You can barely contain your excitement, we can tell. As though once is not enough, we now have to pull wool over your eyes twice. Not that we mind fooling our readers again and again. All these past promises of posting regularly and then disappearing promptly should assure you that our intentions are always strictly dishonorable. But Puddle has declared my anniversary post a cop out! Sacré bleu! * The nerve! The cheek! The rest-of-human-body! His lame-ass recycling-old-posts idea is not a cop out. Naah. But my bootiful, 100% original, no-additives-added anniversary post, with a four-candle cake even. THAT is a cop out. Hah!

* Notice how we have taken to nonchalantly throwing in French phrases to show off our Paris-returned-ness? Very blasé and subtil subtil we are. Oui oui.

Anyway, Puddle’s hypocrisy reminded us of this famous speech —

Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me.
But Brutus says he was ambitious,
And Brutus is an honorable man.

Yes, like that only.

By the way, did we ever mention on this blog that we have a niece? Anyway, we do. She’s all of eight and a riot, a party and a hurricane all rolled into one. And naturally, she is the apple of our eye and the mango of our heart and what not. (I’ll pick whatever fruit and bodypart I want. My niece, my wish.) And she talks at the speed of two-hundred-thirty-four words a minute, give or take fifty. So yesterday, she calls. (Note: pinni is Telugu for mom’s younger sister.)

She: Happy Valentine’s Day, pinni!
Me: Thankoo, chutku!
She: Has anyone given you flowers yet?
Me: No, not yet.
She: Pah! All the boys you know are completely useless!

Yay. One more member of my family who passes mocking judgement on the men I know. Awesomeness only. Oh and apparently, they were selling flowers at her school, so she bought a rose for her mom and dad. Gave it to them after coming home with the declaration — I only will have to buy you flowers. You anyway don’t buy for each other. Pah. Happy Valentine’s day! Sigh. What a brat. And the family claims that she takes after me in personality. Which is suchhh an unfair thing to say. Nobody seems to value my wholesome tutti-fruiti goodness, these days. Something needs to be done about that.

And oh. We’re not doing the Puddle tag now. This was just a whine. Next post we do tag. Pakka. As some famous person once said —

Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive.
But my how we improve the score,
as we practice more and more.

Hee hee. Promises. Hee hee hee!

Um, erm, oops ..

Birthday cake

.. eeps .. err .. Hello! And Happy Birthday, Bloggy!

Yes yes, it is me. Today is the day this blog (well an almost-dead blog is still a blog, pliss) turns four and since one has never missed a birthday post before, one didn’t want to mess with tradition and all. (Mess with the habit of writing posts to keep the blog alive, sure, gladly so. But mess with tradition? Noooo! Never!)

Yes, I am guilty of all the terrible things you are about to accuse me of and fully deserve every squishy tomato and rotten egg that comes my way. But for now, I just want to say a big heartfelt THANK YOU to all of you who continue to stop by and check in on this blog despite its three-month silence. If you’re still wondering, yes, this blog is alive. (As is the blogger, thankooverrymuj). And the festivities too, shall return. Soon.

Now, eat some cake, give yourself a sugar-high and let us all resume the nonsense! Yay!