STICKS N BALLS Friday, Sep 28 2007 

               If there’s one thing that’s predhonimating every Indian’s mind right now it’s cricket. Our swashbuckling team established its undisputed dhonimation in the arena of fast-paced cricket by winning the Irfantastic 20-20 world cup. Our team ran through an impressive list of formidable opponents inducing more fear in them than Sreesanthrax. Uthapparently, the enormity of this great win was the only thing the whole of India had agreed upon unanimously since calling Preity Zinta “that slag who doesn’t stop talking even while giving a blowjob”. Joginteristingly, the fan-fervor was so overwhelming during the motorcade that it caused a high degree of Yuvragitation in the streets. Fans, including millions of dhoniacs, celebrated by drinking whisky, vodka, and barrels of Gambeer.
               Unfortunately, every great thing will have something nasty wrecking it from being perfect. Like Aishwarya Rai with her hairy nipples. Or Kareena Kapoor who sings the Flintstones theme during sexual intercourse. The smear on the Indian Cricket Team’s most beautiful day was a bunch of whiny pussies who claimed to be the neglected representatives of some make-believe sport called Hockey. These attention-craving mother-puckers, like the jealous whores that they were, accused the Indian Government of not giving them their due for their exploits. They demanded that this so called game of “Hockey”, which is as appealing as a turban, be given as much importance as Cricket.
                In an effort to settle the issue of Cricket versus Hockey, an open debate was organized between the Cricket Team, the Hockey Team, and celebrity guest Shah Rukh Khan. Mediating the debate was the founder of NDTV, Prannoy Roy, also known as “the annoying old snob who doesn’t open his mouth while talking”.
HT: We want recognition too; we want free travelling benefits too; we want bigger cash awards too; we want more advertising contracts too; we want more respect too; we want to boast of rags to riches stories too.
CT: Well, judging from all the bickering you’ve been doing it sounds more like rags to bitches. You lot are whinier than Sushma Swaraj when she heard Sonia Gandhi had more ovaries than her.
HT: We’re not whining. We’re fighting for what’s rightfully ours. Why is that we didn’t receive an ovation so grand when we returned to India after winning the Asia Cup?
CT: Well, let’s see, for starters, it could be because we won the WORLD cup, not some retarded Asia Cup. The world is a little bigger than Asia, in case you aren’t aware. Secondly, hockey is for losers.
HT: We beat a strong Korean team in the finals to lift the cup. Don’t call us losers.
CT: Ooh! You beat the Koreans. Kudos on beating a bunch of guys who squint so much that they can’t even tell the difference between Britney Spears’s vagina and a water melon.
PR (mouth closed): To be honest, our NDTV cunt survey showed that a lot of people have trouble telling them apart.
CT: It’s easy. You sink your teeth into a watermelon and spit out the seeds after eating it completely. (pauses). No wait…
SRK (a little irked that his time is being wasted): Let’s move this along to the part where I have to talk about ‘Chak De’. I’m not interested in vaginas.
CT: Tell us something we don’t know.
SRK: Hey, if you’re talking about the thing that poked you in the thighs when I hugged you fellas after the finals it really was my cell phone. (pauses) For the umpteenth time, I do not find myself daydreaming about rubbing oil on Karan Johar’s love handles.
CT: Sure, we believe you. And we suppose your phone was set on vibrate as well with someone calling you like crazy.
SRK: Yes. It was Farah Khan calling me to ask if I had any spare time when she could come over and kiss my ass.
HT: Actually, we have a bone to pick with you as well, Shah Rukh.
CT: Oh, he’ll be more than happy to let you pick his bone.
HT: Was it so much trouble for you to show up at the Asia Cup finals and cheer us on? Did you forget what ‘Chak De’ was all about?
SRK: Of course, I didn’t forget. It was about me taking the credit of being the inspiration behind every triumph in sports that came towards India in the next few years.
HT: What about the game of Hockey that has been part of India’s history for decades?
SRK: Are you telling me it’s a real game? I thought it was just a ridiculous game that the filmmakers came up with.
HT (angry): Yes, it’s a real game. It’s the national game of India.
CT: Yeah right, and Kajol is not ugly as shit. The only reason why people started calling it the national game of India is because that was the first thing we managed to win after getting independence. It doesn’t mean that it’s an interesting sport and that people like watching it.
HT: People from all communities and walks of life play hockey.
CT: Get real, clowns. Hockey is a game played only by smelly Punjabis.
HT: Just because you have money coming out of your piss-holes doesn’t mean that you can be racist.
CT: How many of you have Singh as your last name?
(All the hockey players raise their hands and on realizing they had just been had put their hands down tetchily)
HT: We represent all religions and communities. Unlike Shoaib Malik.
(Suddenly, Prannoy Roy takes centre stage and speaks in a deep baritone, his mouth still shut tight)
PR: This is a message from NDTV to Shoaib Malik. You do not represent all the Muslims in the world. You are only the captain of the defeated Pakistan Team. You are nothing, do you understand? Nothing. NDTV loves Muslims. And Hindus. And Christians. You are an overzealous Muslim, Shoaib Malik. You cannot just speak shit and say you’re doing it on behalf of billions of others. Only diseased bastards would do something like that. This announcement, by the way, is being made by me as the universal representative of media, old people, snobs, and those with their heads tucked up their asses.
CT: Relax, you old fart. He was just being emotional. Stop blowing shit out of proportion. All he said he was he thanked all the Muslims in the world. You’re a rotten piece of shit to be ballooning that up when you have other important things on your channel to talk about.
PR (pouting): I will complain to Barkha Dutt and he will shout at you.
CT: Don’t you mean ‘she’?
PR: Who do you think knows him better? The stupid audience who sit in front of the TV or me, the head of NDTV– Nicely Disguised Transvestite Vixens?
(Suddenly, everyone stops talking because they hear a moaning sound. It’s SRK seemingly in the middle of a day dream)
SRK: Yeah…you like that, K-Jo? Hmm…Always stay under me…ok?…Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna…hmmm…your flab is so sexy…I’d like to drink your hot brown frothy coffee…yeah…
PR: Shah Rukh, wake up! I think you’re having a gay-dream!
(SRK wakes up and sees everyone staring at him)
SRK: What?
CT: You were gay-dreaming again, bum-boy.
SRK: No, I wasn’t. I was just thinking about my new movie Om Shanti Om.
CT: Don’t you mean ‘hOMo Shanti hOMo’?
HT: This is exactly what we’re talking about. This whole debate was supposed to be about us. But now it has turned into a dialogue between Cricket and Bollywood. We deserve attention too. We want all the luxury they get. We want more and more and more and more…
CT (smirking): Unless you’re talking about Kiran More I don’t think you have much of a chance.
HT: Up yours, you undeserving shit balls. We will kick your ass.
CT: Go suck on a puck, you whiny little pussies.
PR (mouth closed): I’m more powerful than God.
SRK: I miss Karan.
(Pandemonium breaks out. Everyone starts screaming and bickering. The Cricketers fight with the Hockey players. Prannoy Roy claws at SRK who’s groaning with pleasure. The debate gets so boisterous that the noise reaches the heavens and wakes up God himself. Fed up with this mysterious ruckus, God comes down to the scene of the scuffle)
GOD: Just what the fuck is going on here? Some of us are trying to get some sleep up there. I’ve had a very rough week what with the culmination of the 50 cent- Kanye West battle and all. I did all I could do to boost 50’s record sales but what can I say, that nigger keeps putting out some of the worst beats ever.
PR (mouth closed): I’m sorry, Mr. God, but as the supreme leader of the media world I need to warn you about your dirty mouth. You’re not supposed to use that term unless you are one. And clearly, you’ve more of a greenish beige hue.
GOD: Hellooo! I’m God. I created the world. I can say whatever I want. And what’s with the closed mouth? Do you have any breath issues? Or are you trying to be a ventriloquist?
PR (mouth still closed): Well, if you should know…
GOD (interrupting): Shut the fuck up. (Prannoy Roy is flustered. God turns to the others). Now, why don’t you biatches get me up to speed? What’s all this fuss about?
HT: You’re the perfect person to settle this dispute, lord. The Indian Government and the people alike have been giving the sport of cricket an unjust pedestal even though the rest of the sports are just as great as cricket. But no matter how many trophies the rest of us win, it’s always the cricketers who get the true respect, the maximum benefits and all the acclaim. The rest of are left with nothing.
GOD (turning to the cricketers): How much money are you boys likely to get in the coming month alone owing to your recent victory?
CT: Hmm…maybe more than a few billion bucks…
GOD: Oh my fucking self! You’ve got to be fucking shitting me! Even I don’t have that much cash. And I’m the almighty!
CT: Well, it won’t seem like much because it’ll all be in thousand rupee notes…
GOD: I don’t want to hear anything further. I’ve been trying to bring about fairness and justice in this world of mine. But greedy beings like you keep making my job harder. All your earnings will be halved and distributed amongst these players. It’s settled.
(The cricketers are upset with the decision. They demand the case be referred to the third umpire but God reminds them that he’s the only umpire. The Hockey Players are ecstatic and start celebrating)
PR: Well, it looks like the Hockey Players have achieved what they set out to do.
GOD (taken aback): Whoa! Whoa! Hold your horses. What did you say?
PR: The Hockey Players have…
GOD: Hockey? That’s what you people play? Oh, well, that changes everything…
HT: What do you mean?
GOD: I’m sorry but I take back everything I said. No redistribution of the cricketer’s income, no benefits, no nothing. I had no idea you guys played hockey.
HT: Why, what’s wrong with hockey?
GOD: Well, firstly, it isn’t half as exciting as Cricket. And obviously, the cricketers have a much more perilous tenure than you biatches.
HT: Perilous? Cricketers in India get billions of rupees when they win.
GOD: That’s if they win. I don’t think people kick down your houses, blacken your property walls, molest your sisters, finger your mothers, and fist your fathers if you lose. That’s what the cricketers have to go through if they lose. Besides, people get dealt bad cards all the time. That’s just the way I run the world. You don’t hear mute people shouting that they deserve the same benefits as people who can talk, do you?
HT: God, you’re clearly exaggerating about the dangers cricketers have to face if they lose.
GOD: Well, that’s not all. There’s another very important reason why Hockey can never get the respect and richness that cricket does.
HT: What’s that?
GOD: Hockey is for losers.
(The Hockey Team leaves the scene with their heads hung low out of humiliation like the way they were meant to be)
CT: God, you’re just the bomb. There’s no other way to put it.
PR (mouth closed): I think you’re all forgetting that I’m more powerful than Mr. Party Mouth. I run NDTV. That’s harder than running the world.
SRK: In your dreams. Your channel thrives on news about me. Haven’t you heard Karan introduce me on his show? More people on this world know me than Tom Cruise. That means I’m the most powerful gay…I mean guy in this world. And Insha Allah, I’ll be more powerful than you, God.
(The cricketers look at God and shrug. God shrugs back)
GOD: Well, I guess there’s only thing left to do.
(God waves his hands around and turns SRK into Dev Anand’s dick; he then turns Prannoy Roy into Lata Mangeshkar’s vocal cords)
CT: They are definitely not going to enjoy their new lives. I guess they learned never to mess with you, God.
GOD: They sure did. Let’s just hope they never run into each other.
(The Cricketers are back to being filthy rich. The fans are still poor and in awe. God goes back to sleep. Everything’s the way it should be)


THE BRIDGE OF RAM-ifications Saturday, Sep 15 2007 

              We Hindus have taken a lot of shit from all the non-Hindus residing in our country. They have taken our jobs, our land, our women, our wealth, and even a few rolls of our toilet paper. We made an attempt to stick to the honorable technique of preaching non-violence and then murdering them- they responded with the same. We demolished their churches and mosques and covered it up saying that Parvati Melton’s boobs crashed into them- they didn’t buy that. We sent anthrax-infected deer as part of a bio-warfare scheme to kill the Indian Muslims- but Salman Khan shot all of them dead. Finally, we genetically engineered a battalion of stand-alone monster cocks, in our laboratory in Los Angeles, to attack the Indian Christians but they were intercepted by a hungry Britney Spears after her MTV VMA performance. And just when we were about to announce a truce, the anti-Hindu Government goes ahead and does something so insulting and offensive as suggesting that the Lord Rama didn’t even exist; they want to demolish the Rama Setu, the bridge that Lord Rama built thousands of years ago so that they can build a shitty canal for the economic growth of India. Now, it’s war.

               Thankfully, the official spokes-group for Hindus, the BJP, has taken matters into their own hands. That is after all what Lord Krishna said to Arjun in the Bhagwad Gita: “Ahead of you lies a pool of shit, trust the BJP to push you into it.” Apparently, Lord Krishna rhymed. Urged by the BJP, Hindus from all across India march through the streets protesting against this overt lack of respect for Hindu beliefs by the Congress Government. Interestingly, they are met halfway by a vociferous group of Muslims.

Hindus: This is Hindustan. ‘Hindu’-stan. Figure it out. If you think that you can hurt our religious sentiments and still keep all your internal organs in tact, you better get a new doctor.
Muslims: When are your religious sentiments ever unhurt? Let a lady enter a temple, you go berserk. Give birth to a female child, you flip out. Draw nude paintings, and your whole world is on fire. You people should learn to not be so touchy.
Hindus: Ha, look who’s talking! Strike out all the days in a calendar when you Muslims haven’t issued a fatwa against some loser or the other, and you couldn’t even make a week.
Muslims: That’s different. Those shitheads insulted our holy Prophet. That’s blasphemy of a different kind.
Hindus: Well, our Lord Rama has been insulted and to us, that’s the biggest blasphemy possible. He is the Hindu religion’s highest power.
Muslims: Oh, ok. So does that mean it’s alright to mock Krishna?
Hindus: No, he’s up there with Rama too.
Muslims: So, mocking Vishnu is fine, right?
Hindus: Umm…not really. The three of them are like a team.
Muslims: Then Siva, Ganesha, Durga, Laksmi, Hanuman, Saraswathy, and the others are open to criticism?
Hindus: Look, you bearded wise-cracks, all our three billion, five thousand, six hundred and twenty seven gods and goddesses are important. Neither can you say anything about them nor can you even slightly imply that they are just figments of imagination that popped out of some guy who was really, really stoned.
Muslims: But seriously, how can anyone refrain from making a comment when they see thousands of people queuing to get blessings from the idol of an obese elephant sitting on a rat?
Hindus: In the same way you refrain from making comments on someone who gets so delusional walking through the desert that he claims to have talked to God; in the very same way you do not make comments on how this certain God’s messenger deemed it alright for old, paunchy guys to have sex with girls who were seven or eight years old; in the same manner you back out of criticizing this messenger’s claim that God wants every man to marry and impregnate more than a dozen women like they were tube socks.
Muslims: We have no idea who you’re talking about.
Hindus: Just what the hell are you doing stopping us anyway? The Ram Setu issue has got nothing to do with you. So why don’t you just buzz off? Isn’t it time for you fellas to go have your seventeenth prayer of the day?
Muslims: Well, we thought you’d never ask. You see, this bridge that you so conveniently designated Rama’s Bridge is in fact the creation of our Prophet Muhammad. He built it with his own hands so that he could go talk to God who was standing on the other end.
Hindus (mocking): Oh, that’s about the funniest thing we’ve heard in a long time. Your Prophet built this entire bridge all by himself? Ha, that’s rich! That’s so far removed from reality.
Muslims: Oh, yeah, how do you claim your Lord Rama built it?
Hindus: Lord Rama got the help of his army of talking monkeys to help him build the bridge.
Muslims (sarcastically): Why, what happened? The steroid guzzling hawk was on strike?
Hindus: Well, for your information, Lord Garuda was injured trying to stop Ravana’s flying chariot.
Muslims: Damn, who directed your religion? Michael Bay?
Hindus: Who designed your costumes? Stevie Wonder?
Muslims (angry): Do not mock our traditions, infidels!
Hindus: Hey, calm down. Why are you guys always so pissed off? Is it because all of you were circumcised when you were kids? We agree, that’s got to sting. In fact, there’s every chance that Osama would not have turned into a terrorist if he still had his foreskin. Messing with a man’s penis can really piss him off for life.
Muslims (offended): It helps us last longer!
Hindus: Then why didn’t you just slice the whole thing off? You could have kept going all night long.                                                                                                                                (Before the angry horde of Muslims can respond a large throng of Christians arrive. The Christians have condescending smiles on their faces as they shift their glances between the Muslims and the Hindus)

Christians: Praise the Lord! How are you Ramaholics and Muhammadophiles?

Hindus and Muslims (in unison): It’s Hindus and Muslims.
Christians: Sure, sure, Praise the Lord!
Muslims: Why don’t you take your cross-bearing asses back home and praise the lord? What the heck are you doing here?
Christians: We’re here to inform you barbarians that you are arguing over a moot point. The bridge in question isn’t Rama’s Bridge nor is it Allah’s Bridge or Muhammad’s Bridge. It’s in fact, Christ’s Bridge.
Hindus and Muslims (taken aback): Jesus Christ!
Christians: That’s right. The same guy. If you verify the facts you’ll see that Jesus was in fact a carpenter. And if anyone was skilled enough to build that bridge it was Jesus. Not Rama and the monkeys, not Muhammad and the camels.
Hindus: Carpenters don’t build bridges. Architects do.
Christians: Jesus graduated a part-time course in Architecture as well. The only thing you heathens need to know is that the issue is now ours. You guys can just pack up and go home. The matter of Christ’s Bridge will be dealt with by Christians.
Muslims: Who do you think you’re talking to? You think we’ll just buy into whatever you’re saying? You think we’re as gullible as your GOD TV audience? Your Jesus couldn’t even carry a cross for a few miles and you’re telling us that he built this entire bridge by himself. Let’s face the facts, maybe he spoke persuasively but he wasn’t cut out for physical work.
Hindus: Both of you should just leave when you can. This is a matter between the Hindus and the Government. They expect to get away with saying that Lord Rama didn’t build the bridge. What are they going to say next? That his skin was not actually blue? So, leave us alone, it’s a Hindu issue. Christians and Muslims should just scram the scene.
Muslims: You would love to play the victims, wouldn’t you? Well, guess what? It’s Muhammad’s Bridge and it’s our sentiments that are hurt. We are the ones against the demolition of that long pile of rocks.
Christians: If anyone’s a victim, it’s us. You Hindus and Muslims have been hogging the spotlight for years with all your communal riots and shit. This is our time. We are the victims. We deserve all the attention.
Hindus: No, we deserve all the attention.
Muslims: No, we do.
(Suddenly, a fourth group arrives. The group has a number of bald, half-naked monks with plastered smiles on all the faces)
Hindus, Muslims and Christians: And who the hell you are you baldies?
Baldies: We’re the Buddhists. We have come here to ask you to not resort to violence.
Hindus: You have no business here, monkeys…or monks or whatever you people are.
Buddhists: Buddha says nobody really has any business anywhere. Just love each other.
Muslims: Seriously, you fellows need to take it elsewhere. We’re having a serious discussion here.
Buddhists: Buddha says nothing in the world is really serious. Just love each other.
Christians: If you’ve come to claim the bridge you better wait in line, eggheads.
Buddhists: Buddha says that the bridge isn’t real. Nor are eggs real. Or heads. Let’s all just love each other.
(The Hindus, Muslims, and Christians look at each other, nod in agreement and simultaneously launch an all out attack on the Buddhists. The Buddhists are battered to pulp within a matter of minutes. The bloodlust of the other three groups simmer down. They sneer at the Buddhist carnage before them)
Hindus: They’re so gay.
Muslims: Total fudge-packers.
Christians: They put the homo in Homo sapiens. Praise the Lord!
(The three groups hold hands, walk away into the sunset, world peace and harmony ahead of them and a bloody pile of fucked up monks behind them)

Di, Dogs, and Dev Sunday, Sep 9 2007 

                It’s customary that if you’re a slut you need to be dumb. However, every now and then a slut arises who breaks the custom and proves to be a smart slut. Diana, who married the freak-eared Prince Charles, got the money, got the fame, dumped his ass, fucked around, was a smart slut. Well, until the moment she went and got herself killed, of course. Then again, if a million people are shouting “Lady Di! Lady Di!” at you, it’s bound to catch up sooner or later. Ultimately, the lady did die. The same happened with Bruce Lee; people kept screaming “Bruce! Bruce!” at him and finally he bruised…to death. I’m cool with that. But what I don’t understand is the sudden surge of respect and adoration for this dead whore Diana (DWD) who’s being treated like she’s a martyr or a saint of some sort. All she did was fuck around and get into a car accident. And if that is the prerequisite for earning respect we should all be respecting the hell out of Anna Nicole Smith (May her hole rest in peace) who wasn’t even clumsy enough to die in a car crash. She, at least, stayed married to her husband till the old pervert kicked the bucket. That, in my book, deserves more respect than living royally riding rich cocks outside the palace.       

                People adoring Diana for no reason is almost as retarded as people hating American football star Michael Vick for being involved in dog fighting. People seem to be just appalled at the idea of training two living things to bite and claw at each other for the pleasure of a bunch of depraved spectators. Some viewers, it was reported, were so repulsed by this news on television that they changed the channel immediately and went back to watching boxing and ice hockey. It was interesting that the people who were most offended by the Michael Vick issue were white people. Apparently, they couldn’t digest the idea that people would chain other living creatures and use them for their own selfish purposes. That was almost like slavery, which was just unpardonable. Since when did furry, flea-infested, shit-where-it’s standing, stinking dogs become more important than humans? You would never see people get this ballistic if a human being was tortured or murdered. If that happens the only thing everyone does is “condemn it” and at the most “strongly condemn it”. But throw in a fucking dog in the midst of all the action and you got the entire world ready to judge and execute. It’s great to see how Americans are looking at everything that’s happening around them in the right perspective. Bomb to death dozens of Iraqi civilians, including kids, and it’s part of fighting terrorism and Al-Qaeda but coax a pit-bull to sink its teeth into the neck of another, the whole damn country acts like it’s got a lit up dynamite shoved up its ass. If it were up to me, I’d round up all the dogs in the entire world and exterminate them in a gas chamber. That’s right, I admit it, I’m anti-canine. I’m the Dog Nazi; the fur Fuhrer. In fact, the only reason why Koreans are so low down in my hate list is because they chop up these furry-assed motherfuckers and eat them as snacks.

                I wish I could contact Michael Vick because I feel the urgent need to buy myself a pit-bull. No, it’s not so that I can arrange dogfights of my own. I want a pit-bull so that I can unleash it upon Kapil Dev and get his fucking balls ripped off. This buck-toothed, has been, match-fixing, gibberish blabbering, greedy-ass cup of monkey shit is probably the most annoying figure in the world of Indian sports after Harsha Bhogle’s homosexual partner Gautam Bhimani. Fine, so he wants to start to a fucking rebel cricket group. Go ahead and start it. Why in the name of flying red balls does he have to come on television every day and whine and groan about what he’s doing? Either he’s moaning like a pig in heat about how he’s only an “ordinary worker who wants to work” or a “true lover of cricket” or he’s crying like a little pussy about how he wasn’t involved in match fixing. This cunt-face Kapil Dev is making more money out of sucking the dick of ICL than anyone could ever possibly imagine. And this piece of decomposed horseshit had the nerve to come on television and say that Sachin has never really won matches for India. So, on behalf of every cricket fan, Kapil Dev should shut his fucking mouth and go fuck himself.

                 And, in conclusion, I’d like to say “Fuck Diana! Fuck animal lovers! And fuck Kapil Dev!” They can all just swallow a fucking blade and die. Except Diana, of course. That whore is already dead.