Feb 14, 2016

This Cat Has Nine Lives!

I know this blog has been dormant for many months now. In fact, I have been checking it from time to time to see whether it will write itself a new post. But while Google knows where I went for dinner last night, and what I ate, and probably even how it passed through my system, those guys haven't been able to come up with a blogging app that, to the extent I know of, will write posts by itself. Bad, bad Google, no donut for you.

The reason for this sudden reawakening is, of course, Tradition. One that stretches back to 2008. Come Feb 14, you can rest assured that certain events (and probably other stuff) will unfold.

1. Those of you who have a girlfriend will find that your girlfriend will want an expensive gift and a romantic dinner.

2. Some jobless guys with too much time and not enough sense will suddenly realize their right hands can also be used for thrashing other people.

3. And SRK will write a crappy limerick on his blog whining about how women are incorrigibly blind to his charms.

So, without further ado...


Ladies, this annoying tradition of the annual whine
Has now been extended inexplicably to Year Nine
I've looked for love from each planet, not just Venus
Except Mars of course, since I have no interest in Uranus
Wait, is Pluto still a planet, or now relegated to the Loser Line?

I was never under the self-deceptive illusion that I had any charm
Nor that I was a knight-in-shining-armour saving people from harm
I always knew I am just another fat, goofy idiot writing bad rhyme
So I perfectly understand why, with me, ladies don't waste their time
And instead run after the other SRK, who stands in a train extending his arm

A friend tells me, stop being a loser and get on to this thing called Tinder
Who knows, you may find someone coming off a break-up or a bender
And so, I created a profile probably too verbose, and added a few pics
And sat back like a boss, waiting for all the promised beautiful chicks...
But all it shows me are German blondes saying 'Kinder statt Inder'!

But winners never quit, and hence I keep swiping right
Coz even losers shouldn't give up without at least a fight
So what if shows me people who are clearly married with kids
Ignoring those idiots, on and on I labour, rubbing my eyelids
Till I was bored and sleepy, and it was long past midnight

All the women say they are looking for good, intelligent conversation
When all they want to talk about is what they did on their last vacation
Some of them want guys who are well read and with good grammar
Kinda puzzling, since if you want to get nailed, all you need is a hammer!
Maybe good English is a way to filter out people below your social station?

But I bravely soldier on, and there are other interesting idiosyncrasies that I find
Like people who call themselves 'sapiosexual', you know, the pretentious kind
I mean, do you truly believe in such shit, or is it just some fancy word
that, to sound modern, you picked it up from wherever you he(a)rd
All I have to say to such people is, "please, please, don't fuck with my mind"

Some of those profiles say they are here for 'friendship only' and not to date
While there are others who say "nothing casual, I'm looking for a soulmate"
No matter how long I looked, those magic in-betweeners couldn't be found
I mean those not clinging to these two extremes, but who find a middle ground
Y'know the ones who are ok to meet for coffee, and leave the future to fickle fate

Someone tells me, it would help if I post a pic of mah'self with a cute dog
But then I realize, all the limelight, that four legged bugger would hog!
And there are those who have a complete photo check-list of sorts
One face pic, one profile, one with a pet and one with alcohol shots
I mean, where do you get all these ideas, is there some sort of advice blog?

And so, after a brief, unsuccessful stab at finding a date online
I realized it is but another typical case of pearls before swine
I mean, if, in real life, women find me to be just too full of crap
Then, life is not going to change, just because of a mobile app
And thus, I conclude my hopeless annual crib number nine.


PS1: And this reminds me, I should start blogging again. At least till the good folks at Google come up with a self-writing blogging app.

PS2: Every year I write this, I fear it will be the last such whine. But, once can always hope for a glorious ten.

PS3: If you can buy this for me... wait I just realized... they have upgraded, so

PS4: I mean, if you can buy this for me...

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