Friday, September 17, 2010

Dear MTV, fuck you

I first came across you as a kid addicted to Linkin Park and Bon Jovi videos.You were called Music Television, a name you more than lived up to.The music, the VJs, Bakra, everything was cool, it was all good..But somewhere down the line you turned gay and decided that you wanted to suck more balls than a whore on a Saturday night.The freshness of your shows disappeared faster than heterosexual behaviour in a Karan Johar movie, the music turned shittier than a Municipality sewage tank and even a Ramgopal Verma movie is more entertaining than the new bunch of wannabe retards that you call VJs.

Dear Nikhil Chinappa- Dude, you were my hero 10 years ago.But for all your coolness on MTV Select, anger and tough guy brashness alongside that bald dickhead on Roadies, what the fuck are you doing hosting Talent shows for saas-bahu audience and making stupid bimbos strut their cleavage on Splitsvilla? Also, the ultra-bright Submerge Says : Dance T-shirt you keep flaunting on every second show you judge is louder than Metallica’s last album, that your Paagal-panti Quotient, eh?

Dear Jose- First of all, your name, goatee, haircut and look more than convince me that you are the lovechild of some illegal Mexican drug dealer and a Bihari Bar dancer. Second of all, what the fuck is up with you running around asking stupid questions to people only your channel considers to be celebs? Not surprised that you even have a whore in your name.I also realize that Ayushmann is giving you tips on how to over-over act and sound gayer than SRK but you don’t really have to follow that, just like no one follows the shows you host.

Dear Anusha-Yes, you are damn hot. But what the hell are you doing advising an 11 year old boy on how to wear fashionable clothes to impress girls, that too in that shitty upper lip accent of yours, the one that occasionally sounds worse than that fake North American horseshit Aishwarya gives a shot at every time she’s on Oprah or Letterman promoting her equally shitty Hollywood endeavors(by the way, what the fuck is she doing copying Will Smith’s Robot classic with the real Chennai Super King, does she not realize that only he has been granted with Physics and Logic defying talent by the almighty ?). But seriously Anusha, chick advice to a 10 year old? When I was that age I used to think boobs were nothing but a consequence of every female elder to me strangely getting bitten by a mosquito at the same two spots every time.

Dear Cyrus Broacha- Dude seriously, Y.O.U. A.R.E. N.O.T. F.U.C.K.I.N.G. F.U.N.N.Y. Sticking a finger up your nose for comedy on live TV stopped being funny by the time David Schwimmer got married for the 3rd time on F.R.I.E.N.D.S. I bet our Cricket team’s dismal performance in the last world cup was a sign of protest in response to you hosting the event for the whole cunt-ry.

Dear Bani- Just one thing.Its good to shut the fuck up once in a while, you know.Oh, and I love your Tattoo.

Coming back to you MTV, and coming back to your biggest contribution to Indian TV –Reality Shows. Now if I were to get started on Roadies(I am very scared of your sideburns Raghu bhaiya, please don’t ask me the definition of adventure or what it takes to be a Roadie if you’re reading this, I used to shit my pants every time you yelled at some dude anyway, and FYI-the stray dog that takes a piss on my front gate every morning can judge people better than you do) or Splitsvilla(bimbos mud-wrestling in bikinis in search for love?)i’m sure this site’s servers wouldn’t be big enough to store the sheer length of hatred I can come up with.Thanks to you and these two shows MTV, every Tom, Dick and Clitoris walking around is using the F-word at a fuck per sentence average rate that would make the Commonwealth Committee’s we're making progress rant to castrate itself in shame.

And yes, I do believe that these shows aren’t scripted. Just like WWE and the Bible. Also MTV, will you please try something apart from fake MMS rumors the next time you’re promoting these two shows, think of all the bandwidth that got wasted the past year due to lonely folks Googling Hot Sakshi and Tamanna mms scandal enthusiastically with their left hands.

Your biggest pick-up line has always been that you represent the Youth, but seriously, Ranbir Kapoor? Pepsi commercials? Youngistaan? How about an Oldistaan ad for my grandpa, he has made more difference to my neighborhood than Bani’s questions to Robin Uthappa during IPL Parties. You want to know the fucking reality of our Youth MTV? Most of our teenagers are fucked up mentally and physically cause of parental and peer pressure, Applied Maths, Drugs, bullies, drunken sex on the backseat of some SUV, poor grades and Pamela Anderson’s Playboy pictures. Don’t make them so brain dead that even the new reservations proposed by Lalu Prasad or some newly opened Work in Kanadda immigration agency in Punjab fail to promise them a future.

Also, please enlighten me why your Tickr is always making unoriginal jokes about people like Himesh who you otherwise keep on promoting 24x7 every time he comes up with a new movie opposite some under-aged girl.And what the fuck is up with this new Male Fantasy shit? 3 guys in a pool searching for lingerie while being surrounded by 25 bikini babes ? What are you going to sell next? I bet Rakhi Sawant Ka Insaaf is going to make for a more logical viewing.

Your equally kEwL brother Channel V is no less, Dare 2 Date, Lovenet , Roomies(MMS, did we say?).And what the fuck is this creature that runs around gali-mohallas calling himself Andy(by the way, guys gyrating to Techno music in their V shaped underwears being judged by Andy, please rename Get Gorgeous to Get Holy Fucking Gay).

I know MTV, I know that you are the coolest thing that ever happened to this planet, you even have that obnoxious cunt from Splitsvilla interview Meghna Naidu and Sherlyn Chopra outside Malls.That is very informative indeed.But why is it that everything you inflict upon us eventually gets reduced to girls walking/dancing/swimming in a bikini or flirting with every guy that walks their way or carrying out an open maa-behen encounter with each other in crowded areas?

No, I won’t accept it as Reality or Youth Representation, I refuse to.

Unless of course, you put me next to those Thai hotties on that Male Fantasy Thing.In that case I assure you, we're cool.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Mama i'm coming home

“We have the oldest children in the world. We don’t let them do shit, they can’t drive, they can’t smoke, they can’t vote, they can’t work; they can’t even fuck for god’s sake! And you wonder why your teenager is such an asshole.You watch on the news a 10 year old third world kid holding an AK-47, he’s got a death stare looking right into the camera, that kid isn’t out spray painting on a Saturday night, he’s go shit to do, he’s got a whole agenda.”

Says my favorite comedian; Doug Stanhope. This is something even I have always been baffled by, how much our parents love treating us like little kids long after our childhood (to their defense some of us do totally deserve the ass-licking from overprotective-melodramatic members of the family. “I’m a mama’s boy”. No, you’re a fucking 19 year old sissy scared of taking a 10 hour train ride by yourself).
Now don’t get me wrong, in spite of all the recent nuclear family craze(what with all the devranis and jethanis trying to slice each other’s necks off thanks to Star Plus, a subject matter that if explored by India’s finest Divorce Attorney Ekta Kapoor in a book titled,” How-to-fucking-slaughter-every-married-woman-you-hate” I bet my original Made-In-New Zealand Nirvana Unplugged DVD, would surely turn out to be the highest selling book translated in all the 18 languages and those gazillion dialects so each and every saas-bahu has access to the masterpiece) one of the few things I admire about our otherwise brain-dead and sometimes torture-like Indian family traditions and customs is the fact that people actually care about each other but it gets all too much when your mother goes crazy trying to mould you on the basis of what Baba Ramdev tells her every morning at 7 on Aastha Channel.

You're away from home and end up getting a call from your mother at 11:30 in the night to make sure you had dinner (yes mom, you know I can’t live without eating for more than 4 hours, and even if I did by chance what choice do I have at this ungodly hour anyway?) and if you’re wearing warm clothing(yes mom, it is freezing cold here what do you expect!).

One thing an Indian mother sure loves is making things awkward for her kids in front of guests. The worst part is being told to act all polite(and civilized)in front of those visitors that I know couldn’t care less about my existence(for the record, I feel like setting up my entire town on fire out of embarrassment when some random Uncle and Aunty-ji show up on a Sunday evening out of what I think is total boredom and monotony in their sad life and my mother, out of nowhere, asks me to touch their feet 15 minutes after i’ve greeted them with a disinterested namastey , an order which if disobeyed by me brings the same death stare that Stanhope was talking about to my mom's face).Not to be misunderstood by the way, with the feet diving I do with full enthusiasm and self-interest when a select few close relatives show up(they give you money every time they visit, don’t they? :D ).

The touching of feet is usually followed by the same robotic and rhetorical talk about my college life and plans for the future, followed by an equally embarrassing joke about how I used to run semi-naked with a lollipop in hand in their lawn when I was little, followed of course with the incredibly enlightening society talk with my parents that i’m made to forcibly sit through cause of what my mom thinks is another attempt to socialize me(the last guest visit ended up teaching me that Sharma aunty is having a harder time finding a suitable servant to mop her newly marbled Italian floor than she is finding a suitable son-in-law for her slut daughter).

Not to forget that our parents mix up care and protectiveness even with hypocrisy, at times. The funniest thing is when you see Indian parents trying to sound totally casual, understanding and open-minded while talking about sex education on TV and in newspapers but you know that soon as they find out about the French kiss their teenage daughter shared last evening with a guy whose t-shirt either read “Serial Kisser” or “If being sexy is a crime, arrest me” in the basement parking lot of a leaky roof multiplex after going to a Ranbir Kapoor movie, the girl is either getting her pink cellphone taken away, her broadband disconnected, getting grounded indefinitely, or probably getting her head sliced off if the above mentioned events took place somewhere near Gurgaon or Karnal.

Moreover, 22 year old girls always need to be dropped off to the bus stand 80 meter away from where she lives because the bus driver might face inconvenience trying to pick her up from the gate itself just like the van guy used to when she was attending junior high.

Also, you can eat away relentlessly to end up as the fattest piece of ass you know, but you meet your mother after a long gap and she won’t stop pointing out how you’ve become pale and weak, further reminding you to have more Milk and bananas, two things that I don’t think Indian kids can ever outgrow, from their mother’s perspective. Sometimes, your newest haircut is enough to drive her into depression (my mom is pissed off as I am typing this cause I somehow decided to discontinue looking like her “babu-beta” she used to send to primary school 13 years ago cause I somehow decided to trade the ridiculously Dabur Navrattan-ised childhood head of mine with the fucking disheveled beehive I’m sporting right now).

Anyway, the most outrageous moment, of course, occurred last night. My whole family happened to be together after over 4 months, my mom(who thinks i don’t eat well away from home, I won’t disagree actually) and elder sister(who is always suspicious of me and thinks that all I do in the hostel is drink beer and smoke weed all day long) kept bickering about how I never come to see them more often, never call them up unless it is for ATM money(which they think, I spend on calling up girls) and never eat well when away from home, I was already beginning to get annoyed and regretting coming home for 5 days when this happened at the dinner table;

Dad: Nice to see you’ve gained some weight son.

Mom: (With a sense of accomplishment)Yeah, it must be cause of the balanced diet routine chart I put in his bag pocket when he was leaving that he put up on his hostel wall and follows every day, not to mention the glass of milk he tells me he drinks every morning.

Sister: No look at that tummy ma! It is pure Butter Chicken that he cannot resist even on Tuesdays, along with loads of alcohol, along with god knows all the other stuff these engineering guys do in hostels!

Me: OMG the time to hang myself with horse semen is finally upon me. Kurt Cobain and Micheal Jackson, see you in hell soon!



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