How to Lose Friends and Piss off People.

Tip # 5731.

Boy: Hi! One question. Could be stupid. Was looking at your snaps on Orkut. Do you wear pushups?

Girl: I don't wear pushups, asshole.

Boy: Ok.

We are friends - Past tense.
We were friends - Present tense.

This works entirely on the shock-unexpectancy factor. Choose your weapon depending upon your closeness to him / her.

Extras #1: If you are a guy, hey, how about a "pushup" question to your guy friend?

Tip # 5908.

Stare at your friend's lips while he / she is talking to you.

The beauty of this one is it could work wonders regardless of the gender of the person you are talking to. But then again, nothing like trying it on your best same-sex friend. You get? * wink wink *

Tip # 6014

Chat etiquette.
Go online, be online but never ever talk. Oh and if you are pressed to say something, we have a way around. Say it ( preferably in monosyllables ) exactly after 1 hour and 24 minutes and 43 buzzes, calls etc.
This works depending on your capacity to ignore.

There have been cases of people strangling chat windows.

Tip #6239

Fake. Its a talent and it can be practised to perfection.

Act like a fairy or ( for political correctness ) an angel. Let everyone feel that you are always at arms length. ( in the sky, looking down. * wink * )

P.S. : Curiously no amount of fakeness have known to effect anything in corporate environments. All I can add here is : it is worth studying, this fake-proofness.

Tip # 6498

Time to re-think.

Good relationships start at boundaries and you keep pushing it. Comme la mère et l'enfant. ( what a fucking fake, eh?) So if you are going steady in a friendly sort of relationship ( especially with people of the same gender ), something's wrong. Are you homo?

There are many more. It's only a matter of discovery.
You'll be surprised to find how easy it is to lose all your friends with these very practical tips.

Trips

As I sat in the bus and
As I listened to The Cranberries in my ipod and
As Dolores sang :
. . . they are dyiiiiiing,
the bus, it's front right tire ran over a man -
brain out, eyes out, tongue out, blood out,
crush, crush, CRUSH.

I fucked, killed,
crushed you in my mind.

Now who is the zombie, motherfucker?

The Island.

I observed my every move. How I breathed, how my hands moved, where I looked. My mind followed my eyes, my hands, my breath and I let them all be. There was an excruciating amount of ugliness around. Unusual for a Saturday. But that's what my mind, which followed my eyes, saw. The ugliness was not just in the faces. Not just. They were in the expressions in them and the way men laughed and walked and everything else they had to do with being moving and human. So what I did was I let my mind wander into myself. I couldn't be friends with these people. And if I couldn't I had to be friends and get to know someone and so I decided to befriend my breath, my hands and my eyes.

It was not the best Saturday in a long time. I was sick- sick and lonely and I wanted to go out, drink and sulk like a sot. Y was with his mother and brother and he didn't want to go out anyways, K would have come tomorrow but she was at Mira Road so she couldn't, M - well M's was the most uplifting replies. " Who would want to miss being entertained by a drunk 24 year old? But I've got plans for today. Next Friday? " Promising. All said, you don't expect anything less from a married, 29 year old. So then it was V who probably didn't know me and so never replied to the SMS and P whose phone number I've been seeing in my cellphone for a little more than 2 years never bothering to know who it belonged to and he, well he " never went home drunk". The son of a . . .

Could you blame my state of mind?

When you are living alone, you constantly feel the need to be social. Much, much more than when you are living with someone. But all you end up with is talking to your guitar or observing the clock and the ceiling or reading a difficult book ( Deleuze in my case ) which you would probably not have read when people are moving around and if you could observe the clock enough, befriending the air that moved and made the only sound in the house.

I had read about men being large, unfathomed islands. I exactly know what it means.

*************************************************************************************

As the night closes, the day seems to be not all lost. I've been wanting to watch Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia for a long time now and the DVD - my dear, dear, dear friend unearthed itself alongwith Persepolis. The day seems bright at 11.30 in the night.