The Paris Hiltons
Not too uncommon in big cities, these are the extremely-important-for-India’s-economic-and-cultural-development-pomp-and-show-personally-crafted-by-the-almighty-and-his-gift-to-mankind species that can be seen living the hard and unfair life of making harsh decisions like choosing between spending time at spas, beauty parlors or roaming around in malls at night wearing a tank top above over sized breasts(that I bet when they’re taking bath hang in respect to gravity longer than the newly matching curtains they ordered at The Curtain Shop).These tops proudly yell out “ARMANI “ or “BEBE” bright enough in gold or yellow for you to experience temporary brightness if you are within sniffing distance of the new cologne series launched by Jennifer Aniston they poured on their armpits and hands that seriously contain more hair on them than I do at the place my beard should be, and I turned 21 last month. Sigh.
They usually look like cheap Indian version of all those hot Italian models guys grow up watching on Fashion TV while our parents think we’re too pre-occupied howling ma-behen bombs at our cricket team getting ass-fucked by 20 year old Australian batsmen. Also, these girls love wearing glasses at night, that too the ones that are big enough to cover most of their face, including at least 60 percent of their surgically corrected nose(which makes me wonder what was the point of the surgery anyway) and the wide hipped ass is almost always ready to burst out of the shaded French Connection jeans at the slightest provocation at a perpendicular thrust capacity and pressure rate large enough in magnitude for the physicists at ISRO to research the reason behind the GSLV launch failure.
These girls can be seen driving around(sometimes over the utterly unimportant and uninteresting middle class pedestrians returning home from work to their uneventful life and unsexy wife or the totally unwanted Biharis) while their best friend is making out with a guy that wears skin tight narrow jeans covered with a white chain and a Harley Davidson belt on the backseat of daddy’s newly gifted SUV listening to an Akon song that if they had an IQ above that of a baby chipmunk and could understand proper English they would have realized totally insults, disrespects and offends their whole gender.
They try in vain to obnoxiously try speaking in what they think is English coming out of their mouth(“dA cOlOuR pattren f mA nue room is raed n kEwL”, you get the point) on their new cell phones that look so gay( which reminds me that I once dated a girl that owns a dark pink Apple iPod, kill me)that the phones wouldn’t flash twice before they start licking Karan Johar’s Koffee flavored tongue while he is on a conference call with Shahrukh Khan and Kajol discussing new ways of mindfucking us with another 3hour long melodrama in which SRK ends up humping the whole female star cast of the movie and the other chap is unable to get action throughout the movie even from his wife while his dad is Bondage fucking 6 foot blondes cause the overly sensitive Rani Mukherjee is too busy thinking about doing dishes.
Also, in many cases you are likely to find a pack of expensive cigarettes placed carefully next to the passenger seat in a way that every mortal passing by within a meter radius of the car can read the brand name properly, the cigarettes they would most probably never light unless around some guys that themselves drive an Audi and love showing off their most important ishtyle statement i.e. wearing the Louis Vuitton glasses at nightclubs and when it is raining, anytime you don’t require them at all and tight Edhardy Tshirts on their steroid pumped chests flaunting pointy nipples, the sight of which makes me want to hang myself with horse semen. The cigarette is usually just present cause of the kEwLness quotient involved with it.
Now, if you've had enough of this Public Display of Retardism and are as repelled by this bullshit as much as I am then all you got to do to piss these beauties off is to let them know that you know a girl that looks good without 2 layers of mascara and got gifted a car,cellphone and iPod that is more expensive than all the stuff they own, that would make the layers of make up to start coming off the face already. So ultimately getting on their dysfunctional nerve would boil down to insulting their most basic necessities of life above mentioned. Just make sure the insult is nowhere close to being logical cause that would fly high and far above their H2O shampooed heads and all your efforts would be rendered futile, only to end up in a “whatever” or “Oh really?” or my personal favorite, “O puhleez, shut up now.”
P.S.~ In the unlikely case that you want her to kill you and then commit suicide just let her know calmly while she is talking to you about the new Katrina Kaif haircut she got 2 days ago at Habib that you didn’t pay attention to what she said cause you were too distracted by her moustache hair and that god awful push-up bra.Best of luck.
