Revenge of the Retards

I have read quite a few blogs, and there are some blogs where people put up posts in which they give detailed descriptions of things they like, things they despise and so on and so forth, kinda like a slambook entry of sorts, that will last as long as the blogger server will.

I have always thought of such posts as those put up just for kicks when the concerned individuals have had nothing much to say, though I can now empathize with them to a certain extent, since I intend to rant on about something that irritates me no end in this particular post.

In one of my previous posts, I spoke about how it is that my parents chose not to have mirrors around me, so that I could remain oblivious from the truth for as long as was possible. But sometimes, I did manage to get a glance at my face, and looking at the same face of mine for the rest of my life seemed like a really boring thing to do. That is probably why I make attempts to change the way I look as frequently as possible. These attempts are usually those that require zero investment, and go very easy on the pocket too!

For example, my current look involves me not shaving for a really long time. I kill many birds with one stone, or rather, with the absence of a razor blade. I don't need to invest on a shaving razor, implying that I save some time and some money. It grosses people out, so I can avoid them. It makes me look really shabby, and all the thieves in Bangalore who might have otherwise mugged me and stolen away the only prized possession I have, my precious iPod, shirk away from me like I have typhus or something equally deadly and contagious.

It gives me this snobby, pseudo-intellectual look that I can carry off with aplomb, contributing to the misanthrope-vibe that emenates from my being, accompanying the stench that is redolent in the air, for my not having bothered too much with things such as deoderants and toothpastes.

With my aqualung-like look, women don't give me a second look, for that matter, they turn as pale as Pandu's mother Ambika did, at the very first glance, when Ved Vyas approached her to do what Vichitravarya was unable to do, in what was probably one of the earliest documented cases of artificial insemination, though there was 'nothing artificial about it'.

There has been this other instance when I grew a ponytail, again to escape paying 20 bucks bi-monthly, for about a year, to my friendly neighborhood hairdresser, and this made him go out of business. Last I heard, he's moved to Bangalore, and has taken to ripping off software engineers who are conscious about their looks, and want the hair on their goatee beards to be exactly 12 mm in length, and are willing to pay good money to ensure that it happens.
I am myself surprised sometimes at the levels of cheapness that I can possibly stoop to, and I've consequently been told that I was a Jew in my previous life, and I am a big fan of this race. Up with the juice.....oops Jews, though a certain Adolf Hitler didn't seem to think either was any different, for his gargantuan war machine.

The morons that inhabit this planet, the kind who suck up to their managers because they know they'll never do well otherwise, the very same sort who, in college, probably thought the cool guys were weirdos from another planet, and those that thrived in participating in 'mock rock' competitions during college fests with irritating regularity, because they thought learning to play a musical instrument was a waste of time, are the ones that make the rest of us feel good about ourselves even when we are trashed, lost and strung out.

These very same people, that are insults to the term 'intelligence' and 'rational animal' and 'sentient being', come up with awe-inspiring questions that have made MAD magazine's 'snappy answers to stupid questions' such an awesome section that I look forward to reading.

It seems as though all the retards on the planet are playing some sort of game, kinda like points awarded to the various houses in Hogwarts, and the points are magically incremented every single time a really inane question is asked to an unsuspecting normal guy who just wants to do his own thing, like coming to the office at the usual time of 9 AM, reeking of beer he had at 7.45 in the morning, without brushing his teeth.

Hence, with the beard, I get to hear questions, which I am listing below. I initially got kicks out of coming up with imaginative answers, but then figured out that my smartass replies made as much of an impact as a condom vending machine would do in a Catholic neighborhood. Anyway, here are some of them queries, with my snappy answers in Italics:

• Love disappointment...aah? (accompanied either by a smirk or a sympathizing look to which I said "no, I am so happy.", with a look that seemed like I just heard that I lost my job)
• Did you get dumped? (no, I got three more girlfriends...*sigh*)
  
• Work is hectic..aaah?
  
• Did you forget to shave? (WTF??? I just shaved this morning!!)
  
• What happened? (asked by someone in the early stages, to which I came up with - fungal infection on face. Subject in question has not spoken to me since. Heh, sucker!)
  
• and the Oscar goes to - "Are you growing a beard?"

To someone who sees a guy with a 50 day-old stubble and asks him such a question, I would have instituted capital punishment in my country. Or subjected him to questions like - "did you miss the compulsory IQ test our company had us write as soon as we joined?", which would've done good if only the subject knew what an IQ test was.

I had encountered a similar situation half a year ago, when I grew my hair long enough to tie it up in a ponytail. There is a big shot VP in our office who's had a ponytail for ages, and I was accused of imitating him. I was also accused of imitating a guy in my team, who also got divine inspiration to slime his barber like yours truly. Anyone from the tech industry is not worth imitating (except for the take home salary part).
I was at the receiving end of statements such as "throw us a party from all the money you've saved up, not having had a haircut!", and a whole lot of other stuff that would be a waste of grey matter real estate in my head.
The day I got it cut and came to the office, there were the usual geniuses who came up with theories about why I got it cut. The worst part is explaining to them that external appearances don't matter much to someone like me, who focusses on how a person is from the inside (a cutely diplomatic way of trying to say that my looks hover very close to the below-average level), and that I had a haircut just because I wanted one.

The icing on the cake was when someone told me this -
"From Mangal Pandey you've now become the guy in DCH".

I swear on my lucky underwear that I did not make this up.
My creativity is limited, when it comes to making corny statements that make the other person go aaarggggh!!!!, and make him wish that he was never born. I can only do that through insulting people, and through blogging, by writing stuff like this post, and the others in my blog.

This has been a very productive day for me - I downloaded 5 episodes of South Park - season 9 and blogged after ages! Until next time, adios!