10 Endangered Species (and why we can't wait for them to be extinct)

There are some animals out there which just do not deserve a second chance. I mean, I get why endangered species need to be protected- to preserve the balance in nature and what not. But preventing these ten species from extinction is like slapping humanity in the face while at the same time molesting mother nature. I am pretty sure that most of you would agree that slapping humanity in the face and molesting mother nature is wrong... or well, this is the internet, maybe not. But for those of you who would not like to see humanity's face disfigured or mother nature running around for her panties, then this article is for you. Keep your shotguns handy and watch out for these ten "endangered" species.


SUN BEAR

Whose my wittle cuddly wuddly bunny bear?

Whose my wittle apple pie?

Whose my-

AAAH! Motherfucker! Run!


Before going any further, I would like to congratulate the anonymous guy in the above series of photographs who managed to pry open the bear's snout with his bare-fucking-hands for having balls of steel. 

The reclusive sun bear, smallest member of the bear family, lives an insular life in the dense lowland forests of Southeast Asia.

Found from southern China to eastern India and as far south as Indonesia, sun bears, also called Malayan sun bears, take their name from the bib-shaped golden or white patch on their chest, which legend says represents the rising sun. They have a stocky, muscular build, small ears, and a short muzzle, which has earned them the nickname “dog bear.” Their sleek, black coat is short to avoid overheating in the tropical weather but thick and coarse to provide protection from twigs, branches, and rain.

Sun bears grow to only about half the size of an American black bear. Males, slightly larger than females, are about 5 feet (1.5 meters) in length and weigh up to 150 pounds (70 kilograms), a stature which suits their arboreal lifestyle and allows them to move easily through the trees. They have even been observed making sleeping platforms high above the ground out of branches and leaves.

Ironically, sun bears are nocturnal. They lumber through the forests by night, snacking on fruits, berries, roots, insects, small birds, lizards, and rodents. They have an excellent sense of smell and extremely long claws, exceeding four inches (ten centimeters) in length, which they use to rip open trees and termite nests. They also have an almost comically long tongue for extracting honey from bee nests, giving them their other nickname, “honey bear.”

Adult Sun Bears have almost no predators except humans, due to their fierce reputation and formidable teeth. The recent decline in the Sun Bear population can be largely attributed to the hunting of "nuisance bears" that destroy crops and widespread poaching driven by the market for their fur and for their bile, which is used in Chinese medicine. Due to lack of any concrete data regarding their numbers it is assumed, taking into account the ecological conditions of their habitat, that the Sun Bear is now a threatened species. WWF's official stance is also that Sun Bear is now a threatened species.

 Adult females are also frequently killed so their cubs can be taken and raised as pets--a role for which they are considered desirable, due to their relatively inoffensive nature and small size in comparison with other bears.

Why it should be extinct?

What you lookin' at, motherfuckah?

What they have have conveniently forgotten to mention is the fact that this animal is holy shit half leopard, half bear! Just look at the spots on his chest! Really, animal scientists? You thought we wouldn't notice? Fuck you. Also, the fact that these little fuckers are cleverer than we originally assumed. They have made people declare them as a threatened species, even though humans do not have any concrete data to support this declaration, thereby, turning their biggest predator in to their most dedicated protector. It's like Osama Bin Laden tricking America into protecting him. Sounds ridiculous, right? Not if you are an ironically named mammal called the Sun Bear. 
These "bears" have managed to fool and manipulate the entire goddamned human race. How the fuck did they achieve this seemingly impossible feat? By acting all cutesy around humans, the way the panda bears did, in order to become too cute to be hunted and also to have stupid humanity pet them. When the time is right, they will kill humans in their own homes.[Citation Needed] 

Newborn sun bear cub molesting a woman

It should be noted that though not much is known about these reclusive creatures, they have been observed making platforms on trees to rest their furry asses. They are constructing shit for their own comfort! Alarm bells, people, alarm fucking bells. Has it occurred to anybody that the so called "platforms" might be sentry posts, from where they can observe other animals(including humans) from a higher ground? Even if these platforms are being constructed for comfort purposes, it shows signs of a highly evolved creature who is now building structures not for hunting or nesting but for relaxing. And people are actually taking them in as pets after killing their mothers! Trust me, when I say this, these bears are just biding their time. One day not far from now, they will take their revenge and when they are ripping apart everyone you have ever known, I will be standing there with a blow-horn shouting "I told you so." 
Also, film makers, if you ever decide to make Planet of the Sun Bear, know this: I call dibs on that idea.

Oh, by the way, did I mention its claws?

Go on. Bring them home as pets. Go on.

 Chinese Giant Salamander

Where do I begin with this animal? How about I show you what it looks like first? Yeah, you want that do? Think again...

What drugs were you on, Mother Nature, when you decided to create this monstrosity? Scientist call it a salamander but I call it the Baby Trapped Inside an Eel Mindfuck. The Chinese giant salamander can grow to be nearly six feet long and can make you throw up your dinner by just looking at you. Look at its almost baby human hands. If you do not believe in hell, you better change your beliefs, because that thing up there can come from no other place. Why oh why, does this salamander need hands? You can bet it is not to help old ladies cross streets. 

On an unrelated note, here is a picture of a Chinese man going for a penile replacement surgery with the handpicked penis of his choice.

Had to be said.

Giant Weta 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!! RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE!!!!!

Frigate Island Beetle

That up there is a Frigate Island Beetle. Apparently Frigate island is located in the middle Children'sTear Ocean and its chief occupation is finding and destroying little kittens. Only in a place like this can an aberration like that exist.It’s the largest of the tenebrionid beetles and the most at risk. If you ever leave the internet long enough to visit Frigate Island and you pick up a beetle and it stains your hands and clothes with a “musky” scented purple ink then the beetle in your hand is a Frigate Island Beetle and you have probably been impregnated. That's not all. Look closely at the image. There is a cute little sticker on the head of the beetle (put there by the hand of Satan himself according to sources) marked innocently with the numeral 2. Simply put this means that there is one more of those things out there sporting the no. 1 sticker. It could be anywhere. Even.... behind you.

To be contd...

 

 

2G Scam EXPOSED! Insider tells it all.

The past few weeks have not been financially good for the esteemed author of this blog, i.e me. This forced me to enter the shit infested dingy caverns of the world known to the common man as the Job Industry. Adjectives aside, I had to basically go ahead and get a job. My awesomeness did not go unnoticed and I was hired at the very first place I applied. I became an investigative reporter for a very well respected newspaper, which I cannot name due to lawery... err lawerly.. lawly..some court thingy. What? Don't YOU judge me. As if law never stopped you from doing anything. How about the neighbor's dog you've always wanted for reasons best left unmentioned. Huh? The law stopped you. It stopped me. Fuck the law and fuck you too, pal.

Only the law stands between this hot hot bitch and you.

I know some of you are wondering how is any of this related to the 2G scam, while most of you don't give a fuck as long as I continue posting pictures. But for those interested few, patience does have its rewards. Learn this lesson and we will move on to the 2G scam. A scam so bad... according to my research exactly 2 times worse than the G scam.

My first assignment as an investigative reporter was to write a piece on the deteriorating health conditions in the slums of Delhi. I tried to explain to my boss that of course the health conditions are going to be bad in a slum. It is a fucking slum. What do you expect? He asked me to go ahead and do what was asked, on which I told him that I will do so as long as he can tell me what he thinks a slum really is. Some say that I was fired at this point but I believe you cannot be fired until you quit. With this thought in my mind, I left the offices of the "newspaper" and decided to do some real investigating.

 OOh! What could possibly be the reason for health problems here? Yeah, right. Stupid newspapers

My first aim was to find a wrong/crime/scam worth investigating. To achieve this goal I went around the parking lot of the newspaper offices sneaking up on unsuspecting people and assaulting them with penetrating questions like-

"Tell me what is the biggest scam in the country or I AM GOING TO KILL YOUR FAMILY! DON'T THINK I WON'T! THEY MIGHT ALREADY BE DEAD! TELL ME!! This strategy worked like a fucking charm. With the answer to my question in hand and cops on my tail, I started my investigation on the 2G scam.

Now, the question arose as to what exactly is the 2G scam? To find out the answer to this basic question, I interviewed Google and Wikipedia and came up with the following snippet of information:

The 2G spectrum scam involved officials and ministers in the Government of India illegally undercharging mobile telephony companies for frequency allocation licenses, which they would use to create2G subscriptions for cell phones. According to a report submitted by the Comptroller and Auditor General based on money collected from 3G licenses, the loss to the exchequer was 176,379 crore (US$39.16 billion). The issuing of the 2G licenses occurred in 2008, but the scam came to public notice when the Indian Income Tax Department investigated political lobbyist Niira Radia and the Supreme Court of India took Subramaniam Swamy's complaints on record [With Case type:Writ Petition (Civil),Case No:10, Year:2011]. The case details of the main PIL filed with the supreme court is Type:Writ Petition (Civil),Case No:423, Year:2010.

I realized immediately that because I could not understand any of what was mentioned, it had to be bullshit. Probably the government trying to cover up its tracks. However, couple of things were clear, I needed to get in touch with Niira Radia and somewhere a figure of 176,379 crore (US$39.16 billion) was mentioned. 

The first thing that comes to mind is fat. I am just saying.

It is no easy task trying to locate a highly controversial and sought after figure like Niira Radia. In order to find and interview her, I decided to use my extensive knowledge of Delhi, the city and people, and my unconventional investigative methods. Budding reporters please pay attention to the thought process that I am about to print.See, how I deduce the answers from the seemingly difficult puzzle by applying logical reasoning. Memorize this method. No task is difficult if the right questions are asked. Now, I knew that Niira was a woman. Where do you find women in Delhi? Where is that one place in Delhi you go to if you want to find women? The answer was clear as daylight. I got into my car and headed towards GB road, Delhi's red light district.

GB Road: Making it easier to find Niira, Meera, Pooja etc. since 1960

I reached GB road at 1a.m. The place was teeming with life. Sex and sleaze were in the air. The place smelled heavily of alcohol. It was my kind of place. I began the investigation by approaching a scantily dressed random hooker standing at the entrance of a ramshackle building. The moment she saw me heading towards her, she screamed at the top of her lungs and disappeared inside the dilapidated building. Now ordinarily, I should have moved on to the next hooker, but something about her screaming and running away made me want to give chase. Refusal only makes me want more desperately. This is probably why even though I have been refused entry in to the Indian Space Mission on the grounds of being "The Least Qualified Individual Ever To Apply" I still keep applying, year after year, month after month, week after week. I followed her into the building only to find myself face to face or more like face to midsection with a tall, burly man. The man ordered me to fuck off. On being asked why, he told me that the "lady" was not interested in making my acquaintance as she believed just looking at me for long enough might give her an incurable disease. I asked the man to not go by my unkempt appearance and give me a chance. The man replied with a punch to my stomach. I exited the building face first into the dirt street. I spent the next couple of hours asking hookers the whereabouts of Niira Radia. At each turn I was met with violence, abuse and outright rejection. It was then, when I had given up all hope of ever fining Niira, that a slimy, shabbily dressed man approached me. So startling were the physical similarities between the both of us that an outside observer might have easily mistaken us for twins.

The Man

"You looking for Niira?" He asked. His voice had a slimy, gravelly quality hard to explain. 
"Who wants to know?" I replied with a question.

"I do," the man said, slightly confused.

"That's ok, then," I said.

A minute or so passed by in silence as we both tried to figure out what to say next and how we had managed to bring this conversation to a confusing, awkward stage it was at now.


"I-I-I know where she is," the man stuttered.


"Well, good."

The man looked at me as if expecting me to say something more. I stared back, confused.


"Do you want me to take you to her?" The man asked, slightly exasperated.


"Sure, why not," I replied.


He motioned for me to follow him. He led me down a network dimly lit by-lanes, lined by houses and building in utter disrepair on either sides. He stopped in front of the most stable structure that I had come across so far. Stable as it was, the building emanated a menacing vibe. Hackles raised, the investigative reporter inside me went on full alert.

"Go in and ask for NR," The man whispered conspiratorially.

As I neared the entrance of the building, time slowed down. My super investigative senses observed every detail, the stale, dank air, the multitude of torn clothes fluttering on the hundreds of clotheslines above my head, almost forming a ceiling of sorts. The mosquitoes as they buzzed about the lit entrance. The doo--

 Suddenly I found myself lying on the ground, a sharp pain shooting up my arm. The man was by my side.


"What happened?" I rasped.


"I dunno, mate. You were like walking in slow motion and then you sort of stepped on some loose stones, right there," he pointed towards a clump of loose pebbles near my left foot, "and fell on your side. It was quite comical, really."


"You best fuck off, if you know what's good for you," I said and gave him THE GLARE. The sole purpose of the glare is to induce fear in ordinary mortals. 

The man looked at me, shrugged and ambled away. I am sure he ambled away in terror. 


I heaved myself up, and walked into the building. The thing that struck me first up was that the building was plush and in excellent condition from the inside. My first day at work and I had already found an A-grade bollywood inspired honest to god motherfucking criminal hideout.


A bikini clad woman approached me and asked me the nature of my business. I asked for NR. The woman gave me a once over as if deciding whether to take me seriously.


"Right this way, sir." With a sweep of her hands and a twitch of her behind she asked me to follow her. Maybe, I imagined the twitch, maybe not. We made our way through a series brightly lit hallways. The walls enclosing the hallways were adorned by various hunting trophies, hollowed out bodies of endangered animals, stolen ancient figurines and statues made out of pure gold. The series of hallways opened up into a the biggest hallway I had ever seen and this hallway led to a huge ornate double door. The gold handles of the doors were skull shaped and I had my first non living being related hardon. The bikini clad woman pushed the doors open and with that my hardon and I came face to face with Niira Radia. She sat at the end of the room, in her throne-like chair. A longish path led to her seat. I plodded nervously towards her. As I neared her, my almost naked companion left me. Soon it was just me and Niira.

  Not exactly like this but my other options according to google were naked women on huge armchairs

"You have been looking for me?" She asked, her tone imperial.


"I wanted to ask you a few questions about the 2G scam and possibly about your name." I said nervously.


"What about my name?"


"Why do you have two i's in your name?"


"What?"


"I mean your name is pronounced as "Neera", right? Then, why the two i's. It makes no sense."

"What?" She asked confused.

"No, really. I mean it. Why the fuck are there two i's in your name. It's a riddle which has been eating away at me ever since I saw your name in wikipedia. It is not right. People just can't go about spelling their names any which way. Certain peculiarities in a person's name can be allowed for, but your name has no room for playing around with the spelling. You still went ahead and decided to spell it in the absurd fashion that it is now spelled. Why? WHY?" My last word came out as a frustrated scream.

This was followed by a moment of deafening silence.

"You have stumbled upon something you should have left alone," she rumbled menacingly. Yes, she rumbled. Fuck you literary critic.


"What do you mean by that?" I asked backing away in fear.


From the numerous movies I have seen, I know it is after the villain utters a dialog on the same lines as the one delivered by Niira, that the hardworking and honest reporter gets shot to death.


"No, no. Don't be afraid, I am not going to do anything to you. In fact I am going to tell you the entire truth about the 2G scam"


Was it true? My good looks had finally borne fruit. Here was a rich female villainous forced to reveal the truth by the sheer strength of my awesome handsomeness. 


"If you had done your research more thoroughly, you would have found according to the Times of India, Indian Express and some other leading newspapers my name is Nira Radia, with a single i. However, according to the Hindustan Times, The Outlook and other leading newspapers and magazines my name is Niira Radia with two i's. Wikipedia in some articles claims my name to be Niira and in others it states my name as Nira. All of this is part of a larger conspiracy. The scam is not 2G, it is the 2i scam. The police and everybody believes me to be safely under custody or at least they believe they are investigating the real Nira/Niira Radia. The truth is far more frightening, the Nira/Niira they have under custody is just a clone. The 2G scam is just an eyewash to take away the attention of humans from the real 2i scam. The scam which will enable me to take over the world. Ha Ha Ha" she announced, her tone borderline crazy.


"What do you mean humans?" I asked, apprehensive of the answer.


"Human! Get ready to see my real form!" She thundered. "I am Zorog! The ruler of galaxies! Behold! My awesomeness!

The real Nira Radia

   

Three hours later found me sitting in front of the Newspaper editor, submitting the account of my encounter with Nira Radia.

"Seriously?" The editor questioned. 

I sat in front of the editor; shivering, scared, unhinged and my view of the reality completely skewed.


"You want me to believe that you actually went to GB road and that you found Nira Radia? At GB road?" The editor's face was expressionless.


"Y-y-yes."

"And you claim that she is an alien, yes?" 

"Yes, goddamnit, you stupid cuntlet! Stop wasting time!," I went for his throat.


"Step back," he warned taking out a gun from under his desk.


"No need for that. I am sitting back down. Let's all stay rational," I reasoned, while trying to stab myself in the stomach with my thumb.


"I can either believe what you've told me or I can believe this security tape," he said pointing towards a tape marked security lying on his desk.

"What about this tape?," I shouted, rising up from my chair. The motherfucker was totally missing the point. Here I was trying to tell him about an alien's plan for world domination and he was worried about a fucking security tape. What has the world come to?


"Are you sure you want to know?," he asked calmly.


This conversation was getting beyond frustrating for me. I let out a shrill shriek. 


"What the FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?," I screamed tearing out tufts of hair from my scalp. "WHAT THE FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

"This security tape, taken from the parking lot of this building," he went on calmly, "shows you huddled in a corner with a laptop in the parking lot ever since you left my office. Not only that, the video clearly shows you smoking crack and shooting heroin every fifteen or so minutes.



"What?" That is a fucking lie!" I screamed, kicking my chair back and half climbing on the desk, "The aliens are fooling us! The aliens are coming!" Do something, you ink-fucker!"


"Security!" The editor screamed, moving away from his desk, his gun pointed at me the whole time.


I was thrown out of the office, and a couple of days later I was served a legal notice which prohibited me from using the newspaper's name or stepping within 1km of their offices.


The truth had to be revealed. So, I reveal the truth here and leave it you, people of the earth to carry the flame of the truth forward. Go well, my friends. Go well.

Interviewing Sajid Khan

In an effort to make this sad sad blog slightly exciting, I decided to do a celebrity interview. I mean, that's what you do, don't you? Got a shitty idea nobody gives a fuck about? Add a celebrity and suddenly "BOOM!" you are rolling around in popularity for whatever shit you came up with. Case in point would be Wipeout hosted by SRK. We already had a better version of the show playing on the same channel but they had to go ahead and make a crappy version of the show and people watch it because SRK is hosting it. It's like you give a person the best car in the world to drive for a month and then you take it away and give him a Maruti Alto. Only you have a celebrity give it to him. Yeah, that's right, you don't have that super-awesome car anymore. No more back massages, seat warmers, shit awesome music system. No more. Now you have an Alto. But wait, a celebrity gave it to you. I hope that makes up for the loss. Let's not even talk about Minute to Win it.

 

      Fuck You AXN!

Well, anyway, since people are that stupid, I decided to take advantage of their limited capacity for rational thought. I got myself an interview with Sajid Khan. Here is how it went.

  Sajid Khan: Director, actor, tv show host, asshole

I met Sajid Khan in a big cardboard box which belonged to a hobo, who lives in the box and was present during the entire interview.

Me: Well, let me start off by asking you why here; In this cardboard box? I mean, I don't mind the setting at all. The sight of this homeless guy eating roadkill right in front of me, does not unsettle me at all. I am just curious. 

SK: To give this interview a mass appeal. 

Being the hard hitting interviewer I am, I told him point blank.

Me: You are lying to me, Sajid. Don't do that again. 

I ended my last statement by taking out the bayonet I had bought specially for this occasion and waved it menacingly in front of Sajid.

Me: You bullshit me again and you'll be this hobo's next meal.

The hobo's interest was piqued. He left the dead rat he had been gnawing upon and started sizing up SK appreciatively. Saliva was gushing down his chin. I could literally see him cook Sajid with his eyes.

Sajid(angry): What the fuck? You think you can threaten me, you puny fuck. Do you know who I am? The greatest film maker India has ever produced! Everyone else is a boob. I am the only talent this nation has. You are going to threaten me? The guy who gave India "Heyy Baby!"? Are you out of your fucking mind?

I thought about this for a second. Opened my rucksack. Took out the file containing my medical history. The first page certified me clinically insane. The rest were photos of pigeons.

 Who is creepy? I am.

The photos of pigeons made sure Sajid realized I meant business. 

SK(visibly subdued): Will you let me go after this interview is over?

Me(Fingering the blade): We'll see.

SK(angry and panicking): Fuck you, motherfucker!

He started to leave or rather escape. I sprang in to action. I grabbed hold of his hair-gel encrusted hair and headbutted him in the face. He reeled back, almost in slow motion, fell on the ground and passed out. The cardboard box plunged into a comfortable silence. I took this opportunity to empty out the contents of my whiskey flask in my mouth. There was still some alcohol left at the bottom. I offered it to the hobo. He took a swig and started retching and cursing violently. Maybe my particular mixture of cheap vodka, rum. whiskey and curd does not appeal to everyone. To each his own.

 NOOOO! What have you made me drink, cockface?

Sajid Khan regained consciousness and found the hobo licking the blood off his face. Sajid pushed the hobo away and got to his feet in sheer panic.

SK(loud squeaking voice): What are you doing to me? What do you want?

Me: Are you asking me or the hobo?

Sajid khan made a run for it, again, but before I could do anything the hobo got to him and punched him in the solar plexus. Sajid khan went down like a house on fire. The hobo looked at me and gave me a conspirator's wink. Sajid Khan rolled himself up in a fetal position. His eyes were blank.

SK(solemnly): I will answer your questions.

Me: That's all I needed to hear. Talk to me about Heyy Baby.

SK(eyes sparkling): Heyy Baby is a modern yet very traditionally Indian film -- you can watch it with your entire family. It deals with single parenthood and will appeal to both, the young and old. Youngsters will like the modern sexuality and women, the single parenthood part of it.

The germ of the idea came to me from my friends who are robustic[sic] guys when it comes to women, and who have not changed even after marriage. But the moment the male actors in the film get a baby girl in their life, their whole perception towards women changes. Though the film is a comedy, it also makes you think. 

Me: Two things. What is robustic and why are you bullshitting me again?

SK(confused): W-w-w-what?

The hobo kicked him in the balls.

Now replace this guy with Sajid Khan.

   

I looked at the hobo and gave serious thought to hiring him. Few minutes of deep thought found me hiring the hobo as " The Truth Seeker". He was to be paid in blood. Sajid Khan's blood.

SK(writhing in pain): Why? Why? Oh God, why?

Me: Because you lied to me. You copied the movie from Three Men and a Baby. You have no friends "robustic" or otherwise. The comment about youngsters appreciating the modern sexuality and women and the single parenthood makes no fucking sense and lastly because you are a talentless fat asshole hated by everyone. I mean why the fuck will youngsters like being single parents, you fat fuck? Make sense or die. Last warning.

I glanced at the hobo. The hobo nodded and proceeded to beat Sajid to a bloody pulp.

Sajid(trying to protect himself from a hailstorm of blows): STOP! I WILL TELL YOU THE TRUTH! Stop! Just please God stop!

I raised my palm and the hobo stopped.

Me: Now, tell me the truth about Heyy Baby.

SK: It is true I copied it from a hollywood movie. I did it because like almost everybody else in bollywood, I have no originality in me. The reason I decided to have the interview in this cardboard box was because for once in my life I wanted to be original. We all know how that turned out. Every joke I have ever cracked is a rip off or an exact copy of something I've seen or heard somewhere else. I am a big fat loser who was living in the shadow of his loud mouthed slightly less dumb sister. I had to get out, man. I had to do something. The movie was my way out. Take a Hollywood movie, add skimpily clad women and some lame ass songs and you are not a nobody anymore. I just wanted to be happy. I just wanted to be loved (sajid khan ended with a sigh).

Me(to the hobo): Was that last part from some hollywood movie?

The hobo grunted as if to say yes. Or maybe he was hungry, now that the rat had been eaten down to the last bit of flesh. I assumed it was a yes. I started moving menacingly towards Sajid Khan, with the bayonet held high above my head.

SK(backing away): I am sorry. Don't hurt me. I am sorry. I don't know what to say. I can't come up with anything original. What do I do? Help me!

With this Sajid Khan started sobbing. For a fleeting moment I felt pity towards him, but then I remembered Heyy Baby, and I hit him in the face with the flat part of the bayonet. The weapon left a huge welt on his face.

Me(ignoring SK's screams): Next time it'll be the blade that will hit your face. 

SK(pleadingly): What do you want me to say? Just tell me and I'll say it.

Sajid was beginning to get on my nerves. 

Me: Your movie is a complete remake of Three Men and a Baby which in turn was a remake of a French film. Your characters are the same as those in the ones made before. The back-story to the characters is pretty much a rip off of the hollywood version and yet you claim that your movie was a complete original with no inspiration from any other movie. You go around claiming to be one of the most talented people around on every talk show. Why? 

SK(defeated): Because it is easy to fool the Indian audience. They are dumb as a fucking rock. I mean you claim something to be the truth for long enough on television and they will eventually believe it. It is too easy. And also because I am an asshole. I really am. Everybody hates me but nobody hates me more than I hate myself. The last time I had sex was with an inflatable doll. Next day the doll was gone. And that's when I live alone and nobody visits me, ever.

 Pictured: Sex doll after sex with Sajid. Also Pictured: Undiluted remorse and pain

Me(curious): Really? The doll was gone?

SK(conversational): It was. Not a fucking trace. The neighbors say they saw someone matching the description of my doll leave the building, but they weren't sure.

Me(shocked): You told your neighbors you had a sex doll?

SK: No, no. I didn't tell them anything. They came up to me and told me they saw someone leave the building they haven't seen before. The description matched that of the doll.

Me: Do they describe everyone who leaves the building to you?

SK(confused): Sometimes.

Me: Coming back to the interview. Why the extra y's in the title of your movie.

SK: I am not sure why. After a while I realized that I can pretty much do anything I want and get away with it. People have gotten so used to trashy cinema, that they don't really care anymore. The y's are there just for the heck of it. I don't even remember how I explained them to the audiences.

Me: What's your beef with Sanjay Leela Bansali.

SK: He is a waste of space like almost everyone in bollywood, but he is more talented than me, therefore, I hate him.

Me: Are you in competition with your sister.

SK(voice filled with hate): I hate that fat cunt. The only thing I hate more than myself is that loud mouthed bitch. I wake up everyday praying she dies. I dream about her dying but there she is. Alive. Making movies which are worse than mine. The fact that she has been allowed to make movies implies there is no God anymore. At least he is not here. Not now.

  Loud mouthed bitch

Me: Are you gay?

SK: I can be if they'll take me. I am desperate to belong to anything, anyone.

Me: Are you--

My sentence was interrupted by Sajid Khan being viciously attacked by the hobo. The hobo went straight for the jugular with his teeth. I watched as Sajid Khan was died mercilessly at the hands of a homeless person in a cardboard box. There was poetic justice in that scene.The interview could not have come to a better conclusion. I left the box as the hobo prepared Sajid Khan for dinner. I was at peace.

The Rise and THE MASSIVE FALL of Indian Cinema

Indian cinema is undergoing a revolution. Everybody is sitting up and taking notice of the force that is BOLLYWOOD.

I am people and I SEE you

Indian cinema has achieved so much in the last decade. The list of achievements is mind boggling. Aishwarya Rai went to the Cannes Film Festival. Malika Sherawat went to the Cannes Film festival. Danny Boyle made a movie in India, using Indian actors. A.R Rehman won Oscars for composing the soundtrack of a HOLLYWOOD movie and and and.... Wait.
How are any of these achievements of Indian cinema?

the greatest achievement of modern Indian Cinema

Nobody seems to be asking this question here in desi land. Everybody is just, oh so smug, about bollywood going places. However, since I am one of the smartest people around, I decided to start asking THE questions on this hugely popular blog, which has a following of exactly three people including me. But before we do the question asking lets take a look into the deep, dark, fungus ridden and dingy crevice that is Bollywood. The last sentence can also be used in any article about Paris Hilton. Replace crevice with cock-pocket and Bollywood with Paris Hilton. Anybody who wants to use it has to shell out $100 every time you use it. I do not know how to publish the copyright symbol so.... Anyway, back to Bollywood.

Bollywood- The Glory Days

I'd rather impale myself than watch any of the new bollywood crap- Mother India

There was a time when Bollywood used to dish out beautiful, meaningful movies on a regular basis. Movies with strong scripts, screenplays which explored emotions and situations with the precision of a heart surgeon. These movies did not have a huge budget nor were they riddled with special effects. Using any sort of special effects at that time would have overshot the budget of the film by at least two times India's GDP. This figure has been derived upon solely based on my expert opinion.

More money was spent in making this image than India's forex reserves between 1940-1980

These movies had good direction, decent acting and amazing soundtracks. As a case in point we can look at brilliant movies made in the year 1970. Just one year. 1970. 1 yr. Heh.

1.	Johny Mera Naam	Dev Anand,Hema Malini
2.	Sachaa Jhutha	Rajesh Khanna,Vinod Khanna,Mumtaz
3.	Kati Patang	Rajesh Khanna,Asha Parekh
4.	Aan Milo Sajna	Rajesh Khanna,Vinod Khanna,Asha Parekh
5.	Purab Aur Paschim	Manoj Kumar,Vinod Khanna,Saira Banu,Bharthi
6.	Safar	Rajesh Khanna,Sharmila Tagore,Feroz
7.	Humjoli	Jeetendra,Leena Chandavarker
8.	The Train	Rajesh Khanna,Nanda,Helen
9.	Himmat	Jeetendra,Mumtaz,Prem Chopra,Aruna Irani
10.	Khilona	Sanjeev Kumar,Jeetendra,Mumtaz
11.	Kab? Kyoon? Aur Kahan?	Dharmendra,Babita Kapoor,Pran,Helen
12.	Pehchan	Manoj Kumar,Babita Kapoor,Balraj Sahni
13.	Dharti	Rajendra Kumar,Waheedha Rehman
14.	Sharafat	Dharmendra,Hema Malini,Ashok Kumar,Roopesh Kumar
15.	Suhana Safar	Shashi Kapoor,Sharmila Tagore,Lalita Pawar,David Abraham
16.	Jeevan Mrityu	Dharmendra,Rakhee
17.	Ganwaar	Rajendra Kumar,Vyjayanthimala,Pran
18.	Bhai-Bhai	Sunil Dutt,Asha Parekh,Mumtaz
19.	Tum Haseen Main Jawaan	Dharmendra,Hema Malini,Pran,Helen
20.	Sawan Bhadon	Navin Nishchol,Rekha
21.	Abhinetri	Shashi Kapoor,Hema Malini
22.	Gopi	Dilip Kumar,Saira Banu,Pran
23.	Dastak	Sanjeev Kumar,Rehana Sultan,Anwar Hussain
24.	Heer Ranjha	Raj Kumar,Priya,Jayant,Nana Palsikar,Jeevan,Sonia Sahni,Daisy Irani,Prithviraj Kapoor,Padma,Ajit,Kamini Kaushal, Pran
25.	Rootha Na Karo	Shashi Kapoor,Nanda,Naaz,Rajendranath,Sulochana,Laxmi Chhaya,Tuntun,Mirza Musharaf,Rita,Hiralal,Aroona Irani, Jayshree T.
26.	Mere Humsafar	Sharmila Tagore, Jeetendra, Balraj Sahni, Jeevan,Keshto Mukherjee
27.	Geet	Rajendra Kumar,Mala Sinha,Kumkum,Sujit Kumar,Nazir Hussain,Daisy Irani,Manmohan Krishna,Tuntun
28.	Pagla Kahin Ka	Shammi Kapoor,Asha Parekh,Prem Chopra,Prem Chopra
29.	Prem Pujari	Dev Anand,Waheeda Rehman,Zahida, Prem Chopra,Nazir Hussain,Madan Puri,Shatrughan Sinha
30.	Mera Naam Joker	Raj Kapoor,Kisena Rabiankina,Manoj Kumar,Dharmendra,Om Prakash,Achla Sachdev,Dara Singh,Agha,Simi Garewal,Padmini,Rajendra Kumar,Rishi Kapoor,Mukri,Rajendranath

These movies managed to portray the simplest of emotions beautifully. Most of these movies are considered classics and scored nicely at the box-office at a time when people did not have any money. Yes, they made a profit at a time when people in India had no money. I am not even going to talk about movies made between 1940's and 1969- The Golden Era of Indian cinema. Movies made in this era were not only super-awesome but borrowed heavily from and encouraged Hindi/Indian literature. As a result, a highly benificial symbiotic relationship between movies and literature thrived during this era. Talking about this period of Indian Cinema while being bombarded with the shitmonkey current bollywood movies makes me feel very very depressed.

Where the FUCK are my happy pills?

Now days with India's booming economy , it is sadly considered an excellent year which produces 8-9 hits. From the 25 or so hits in 1970 to 8-9 now. The current crop of film makers have responded to this decline in popularity by making movies which are worse than the movies made in the previous year. This is how they plan to make their cinema more popular and profitable. Filmmakers arrived at this conclusion by examining each others asshole very intimately. They assume that the Indian audience has somehow dumbed down with the increase in literacy and global awareness, access to far superior foreign cinema and stuff, y'know, other stuff which makes people dumb. Hence, dumber movies. Don't look at me, that is just how a modern Indian film-maker thinks.

Pictured: Indian audience according to modern filmmakers

Modern Indian Cinema:

Yeah, that's right. Modern Bollywood.

Experts in Indian cinema believe that modern Indian cinema began from 1970 onwards. However, I believe that modern Indian cinema began from 1980 onwards. Why? Because fuck experts. Almost everybody related to bollywood is a massive tool. Everybody. They have no idea about anything at all. So, I am the right person to listen to on this subject. Yes. Me.


Before, we launch into the hellish world of modern bollywood, let us take a step back. Take a long deep breath and.. Fuck. The sheer ball dropping magnitude of modern Bollywood's mediocrity and incompetence at making films is extremely intimidating. I believe, one of the major reasons why reasonable people find it hard to capture the essence of bollywood's fuckery is because of its other worldly quality. While watching any modern bollywood film you undergo an involuntary suspension of belief and a massive brain cell loss. Some of the suspension of belief sticks with you forever and the loss of brain cells is permanent. It is hard to come back from there. Hence any critic who watches enough bollywood movies is no longer in any state to write about it effectively.

A 22year old Indian film critic after watching K3G

Bollywood has therefore, achieved a level of invincibility to achieve which a master villain like Joker will absolutely sell Robin to a ring of gay slave traders called Ass Pirates Slavery Inc. Come to think of it, bollywood sounds more and more like an evil fucking genius. In fact thinking of all the modern bollywood movies I've seen, it makes me want to abandon this article right fucking now. What is the goddamn point, Satyajit? What is the goddamn p... Ah, fuck it.

Evil.

To be contd...

Lost

A swish of cloth. A hint of perfume. Berries. Follow. An almost deserted by-lane leads to a crowded street. The background noise of the throng threatens to spill into the foreground and at times it successfully does so. The mirrors on the sidewalk show that you are not alone. If you look into them, you can't immediately find yourself. There! You almost got lost! One face out of many. A part of an organism. An atom making the crowd. Connected by a million tentacles.

Uncountable sights vie for a second of your gaze. A billion sounds fight for your attention. A trillion smells repel and mesmerize you. The skin pulses with sensation. It beats! It vibrates. A metal strip placed against the sun. Hot to touch. Senses overwhelmed. Lost. The more you absorb, the more you lose yourself. Dumb down, baby! Stop your brain. Shut down the processing unit. To feel little is to survive.

Life for the dead.

The tiny pinpricks of hope are like light. When the sun shines, the luck turns for the better, they invade the darkness like a spear of life. All you need is a crack, to let them through. The darkest room can have the tiniest of the tiniest holes on its rotting walls, and passing through it will be that ray of light, and within it, the dust particles sparkle like gold. It will make you soar, the very sight, it will take you to the stars. The stars shine right in front of you and the beam is your universe. You can float too, a tiny speck of gold on a black canvas. The blacker the sky, the brighter you shine.

It's all there.

I am hanging out to dry with my old clothes.

Fingers still red from the prick of an old rose.

Well, a heart that hurts is a heart that beats.

- U2