O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! ~William Shakespeare, Othello
Never drink and drive. And more importantly never go shopping after a pitcher of beer. I’m embarrassed, I feel like a complete ass, I’m angry and I’m thirsty for a pint of beer. I’ll soon come to that.
Divs tagged me the other day. She wants me to list my favorite quotes. Um, I love way too many quotes to mention just a few. But I’ll mention some anyway. These quotes are not exactly what I’d call my most favorite quotes or the only ones that I love but these are the ones I can remember now in my cubicle. Yeah, today’s an official working day. Fuck my life.
“A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her”
Oscar Wilde.
One witty bastard this guy. And gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. If I were alive then and this time was that time, I’d have loved to be friends with this guy. Talk about women, politics and sexuality and women.
“Everything popular is wrong.”
Oscar Wilde.Right.
“Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, it is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver.”
Jack Handey
He’s a mind reader.
“Beer is the cause and solution to all of life's problems.”
Homer SimpsonThis is just one example of Lord Papa Simpson’s observation on life. I worship that man.
“The Dilbert Principle: People are idiots.”
Scott Adams.If you are a cubicle dwelling, quarter life crises facing, frustrated engineer, grab a copy of that book today. Now.
“Man, I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables – slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.”
Tyler Durden, Fight Club (film)I know the entire film by-heart. I know all the quotes from the novel that inspired the film. In Tyler Durden I trust.
"If you are reading this, then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all who claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think everything you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told you should want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity, you will become a statistic. You have been warned.”
Tyler, Fight Club (film). Pre-movie warning.
“I'd like to share a revelation that I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species and I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You're a plague and we are the cure.”
Agent Smith, The Matrix
I remember watching it in the late 90s when I was high school kid. I didn’t understand no shit save for the action sequences. My sister has to explain me for an hour who, what, where and why. Even today this movie sends a shiver down my spine. Just that “Mister Anderson” by Agent Smith is enough to give me goose bumps. He features way up in my top-ten list of fictional villains.
“Let’s fuck.”
Adam to Eve after she offered him the apple. This is merely my assumption.
That’s that.
I bought myself a pair of canvas shoes from Levi’s, Brigade Road. Rewind 1 hour. I was guzzling mugs of beer at The Pub World. Little did I know that a pitcher of beer had the potential to meddle with my decision making abilities. I and my able friend Abhi enter the showroom and point at these nice looking ankle length shoes to the salesman. He happily asks my shoe number. I utter a number I think makes sense. I say 9. And I’m 10. He brings them over from the stockroom and I test them. They feel perfectly fine. And today as I type this here my toes and ankles hurt as if a thousand red ants are making merry chewing on my feet and bellowing, “Chutiya hai re tu,” with their mouths full. Seriously it hurts like hell.
I can’t replace the shoes now. I’ve lost the receipt and it’s already been a week. More than my feet my heart is in pain. It hurts like I’ve lost my teenage love.
Life’s a bitch.
Divya pings and reminds me of
this song about shoes.
Sukrit, as usual can’t keep his lady-mouth shut. By the way, dude, do you remember
the other story about my jogging/tennis shoes which are now part of my Friday casual wear? I still can’t figure out why on Earth I bought them. I’ve got to go back home and change my shoes and wear those uglyass, yellow-soled tennis shoes.
I think I’m going to auction my shoes online. I can’t just keep them packed in the boxes feeling all helpless and angry. Anybody who’s interested in black, canvas, unused, ankle length, UK number 9, Levi’s shoes, please mail me. Anybody who has novel ways on how I could make the best out of useless shoes, mail me. Anybody who wants to scream, “Chutiya hai re tu,” with the ants, please mail me.
It’s a gloomy Saturday, I’m in office wearing shoes that don’t fit me of which I’ve lost the receipt and the showroom won’t replace them not only because I’ve lost the receipt but because they are a week old and they think I’m an old, pain-in-the-ass customer that buy goods just to return them. To add to my woes people ping and tell me listen to songs about shoes.
Yes,
Divya. I’m submitting it to
Fuck My Life.