The One abt NYE

Yes yes...I'm back after a brief sabbatical. I can envision the joyous smiles, the horrendous scowls, the disapproving frowns as well as the sheer nervousness, emulating from the aura of my blog readers. Some have even expressed that reading my blog is like enjoying some of the guilty pleasures of life, such as an all you can eat buffet for a fat guy, a midget successfully reaching for the cookie jar on the top shelf, a diabetic sticking his face under a chocolate fountain, a southeast asian guy buy a pack of extra large condoms...all guilty pleasures or moronic gestures. Same same but different. Anyways, today I'd like to give my readers an insight into NYE Dhaka city style. The significant taboo that rocks the foundation of the Islamic Fundamentalist political party of Bangladesh to the core. 

You may think the countdown begins on the 31st of December a minute before midnight, but you'd be totally wrong to think that. For the Dhakalites (Dhaka-Socialites) it actually begins on the 15th of December each year. The process requires careful planning, sufficient funds all co-ordinated by a self appointed Master of Ceremonies i.e the funloving event planner. In Dhaka its not as simple as getting dressed and heading out for a couple of drinks with a few friends or family members. Here, pre-parties, transportation, accommodation, alcohol consumption, alcohol availability, outfits, themes, fund collection, difference of opinions, crazy ideas, status implications, post-parties...every single factor has to be accounted for and taking into fucking consideration before planning an event. Once you have all those matters confirmed and resolved you can step back and relax and bring in the new year with a smile.

On the night of the event, I have observed that agendas are crucial. Every individual has a bloody agenda. There are approximately 4 different categories of people who attend a NYE's bash with a purpose.

1. The Individuals who are a Couple: These are those people who are walking hand in hand, have a room together, happy and blissful with each others company, ecstatic abt bringing in the New Year with someone they love, who are also a part of  a group, whom they love too. Their soul purpose is just to have fun with each other and everyone else in the group

2. The Individuals who act as though they are part of a Couple: These are those people who put on a facade for a number of reasons; firstly to get the couple discount on the NYE's tickets as well as for the cost of the room; secondly to make sure that someone they are interested in believes that that individual is "taken" and shall instantaneously become more alluring and irresistible; thirdly they absolutely hate each others gutts and wish society would accept them for being swingers; fourthly they haven't gotten laid in months and are going through a dry spell and want to get trashed, sleep with a "3 Shot" person, blame it on NYE, resulting in a spat and a feud ending in a split, concluding in NYE being a scapegoat (by 3 Shot person, I am referring to Vomitface looking like Courtney Cox/Ryan Gosling after 3 shots)

3. The Individuals on the Hunt: These are the players, members of the Band of Brothers, those that house their brains in their boxers. On the other hand, I have also seen the opposite sex as hunters too. Those that flutter their eyes, pose with their hands on the hips, tilt to one side, pout like a fish and heave their chests all the time, mimicking orgasm in a not too subtle way. These individuals are at NYE bashes purely for a purpose, a function, an agenda. TO GET LAID and to wake up in the morning in someones arms, with either a smile or regret on their face. But, but, but (and I'm talking Jamaican booty...huge) as long as they got the job done...they can begin the year in peace.

4. The Individuals on Google: These are the individuals who have managed to skive an invite, the loners with no friends, the sad sole drinkers who attend NYE events purely to ooggle women (I admit this with a saddened heart that 99% of Googlers are men). These are the bums who stand on the corner of the dance floor, slowly grooving away with two left feet, trying to be all cool, staring, gawking and salivating over the bevy of gorgeous beauties on the floor. The track "Blood on the Dancefloor" by Sophie E is dedicated to these people, coz usually the boyfriends/husbands smack the shit out of these individuals when they find them ooggling their beauties.

So thats my summary of observations for NYE. Although before I leave I would also like to point out the fact that as far as attire is concerned, MEN, rarely get it wrong. Very few are a miss, since NYE's outfits are straight forward for guys...but WOMEN on the other hand, boy can some of them get the most warped delusional ideas ever...and when they MISS...they FUCKING MISS!!! For me, 2011 NYE was full of mutton dressed as lamb, women dressed as Pretty Women, a plastic surgeons nightmare, a liposuction commercial, a concoction of spillage & fat in size 0 dresses. 

NYE Dhaka Style...all in all a farce but an immense pleasure to be a part of...or else...I would not have enjoyed writing this article as much as you all enjoyed reading...

The One Abt Supply!!!

Well its been awhile since my last blog. I have had the time to make an abundant amount of observations over the past couple of weeks and once again I would like to share. You may disagree or agree but I am only stating factual observations and not fictitious ones. Todays topic is about the Supply and Demand issues of Dhaka City. For once, Woman’s Lib and Feminism have been uprooted. Not that the basic foundation has been rocked, but the fact that for the purposes of marriage, love, partnerships, commitments and togetherness, us MEN are finally on top. There are more 30 something women desperately seeking their perfect men, than vice versa.

For once, not only in the high social circles, but also in the middle income circles are women “Desperately seeking Sam”. Women are finally having to settle for whatever they can lay their hands on. Trust me, all the good ones are taken. It doesn’t matter if your so and so’s daughter…you no longer have the privilege of jumping in the front of the que by pulling strings. Us men have the power now. If you haven’t already found Mr. Right, your in for months on end of parents squealing in your ears  abt getting married. Being parade like a fruit platter at all occasions and family events. Its like fighting over meat during Qurbani. That’s what its become. As soon as a new prodigal son returns either on vacation or permanently, he now has the luxury of sitting on a throne, while his parents sit by his side, have an open house, where single maidens can come and twirl before walking out the door which says “Please exit in a orderly manner, avoid gossiping, bitching and catfights on your way out. If you have received a Golden Pass from the potential groom to be, we shall be in touch. Silver Passes, your profile will be kept in our records”.

Even the attitude of the women in Dhaka city has changed. They theory of Supply and Demand has become very common knowledge. Every Fair and even the not so Fair Maidens know what needs to be done. They have become secretive, scrupulous, scheming amongst many other adjectives of the same nature, only taking solace and confidence in the friends who are already in a relationship, about to get married or are no longer single. They are the confidants as well as the contacts or insiders who have access to potential groom candidates. Its quite fair to say, that some have actually reached a point where parents no longer care and every cat stray that comes their way becomes a potential candidate for their single daughters. “Ahhh yes, so how is the paan-biri business these days? Where do you see yourself 5 years from now? Can you afford a CNG of your own with PRIVET written on the back? Yes? Perfect, so is the a week from Tuesday good for you? No no, no need to meet your parents…just take my daughter please!!!” And that’s how the story goes.

But then, you have the elite high end Merc SLK as Agora accessory car crowd. Now they have the power, the style, the panache…basically a huge ass middle finger. They can afford more than the Bangladesh Yellow Pages. They can afford the International Search Engines. Enlist the help of Bably auntie whose married to Texan Jack who owns a ranch or half of Colorado. They can afford the search for a groom abroad fiasco. They have nothing to worry about. A future for their daughter is just an email or BB IM away.

So as you can all see and should be very wary of ladies; Men are hard to come by these days. If you haven’t chosen, your fucked, coz going a few years younger is not an option due to the maturity factor. Going for the same age is impossible, coz those guys are going for women a few years younger than you; and finally going for a huge age gap might mean the chances of declaring no off-springs to your parents on your wedding day. Sorry, but life is about Supply and Demand and right now….there is limited Supply to meet the demands of the women in Dhaka City!!!

The One Abt Faking It

Whats the first thing that comes into your head when you hear the term Faking It. If I were to play word association then by default Faking It = Orgasm. But Faking It takes on a whole new definition when it comes to Bengali's. Everything in this dump of a country is Fake. There is nothing Natural about it. In my opinion, the only things that are Natural are womens breasts and mens moobs (man boobs)...specifically because breast enhancements are expensive and more importantly because women and men don't really care if they are swinging low like pendulums. Anyways, I am a dedicated example of the finding, that a man thinks abt sex every minute, hence the digression. 

Anyhow, so what other fake things are going on in this city, that's curling up my pubes and twisting them into a frenzy?? The competition amongst women. Lets delve into this in a little more detail...in all honesty, I have come to the conclusion that, with the exception of their mothers and daughters, all women hate every other women on the planet...and that goes to the extreme of hating other womens mothers and their daughters too. Don't give off the OMG look as you read on, because inside you know its true. When it comes to sisters, I'd say you prolly hate them abt 3%, but that fluctuates and is seasonal depending on whether she has lost or gained weight. 

But in most cases there are abundant number of reasons as to why one woman might hate another. There are two perfect examples that I can think of, off the top of my funky gell laden stylish mohawk spiked head. 

(a) The Chick with the Tricks: This is the woman who lays it all bare for the men. This girl is the good-looking, lads lad at the same time, can knock off shots with the best of them, suddenly turns up in a gorgeous sari at a traditional wedding, says hello to the aunties, turns up the next day at a coffee shop sharing her cleavage with a machiato. This is the woman that all women love to hate, who from then on has earned the nickname - SLIT ( a combination of Slut and Clit ). 
(b) The Bitch with the Fashion Stitch: This is the woman who has the audacity to try to set a trend by wearing something new. Something which the socialite hasn't seen before. The likes of new territory, Star Trek and the undiscovered universe kind of stuff. Here's the woman who turns up at a social event wearing something diffierent. Automatically, all the woman at the same event start moving to one secret designated corner of the room. Its starts with first 2, then 4, all being pulled into the corner like metal to a magnet. Once in the huddle they all turn and take a quick look at the new entry and turn to each other with a frown...as if to say, "What the fuck is she wearing?". This person from then on has earned the nickname - RASTORNI ( a combination of Raastar Fokirni )


I kid you not. But god forbid if either a SLIT or a RASTORNI approach another woman in the huddle. This ladies and gentleman is were Faking it comes into absolute play. I shall now play out the interaction between a Rastorni/Slit and a woman of the huddle, however, it should be noted that whatever is stated in brackets below, is actually what the woman in the huddle is saying in her head and not out loud:


Slit/Rastorni: Hiiiiyyeeeeeee
Woman of the Huddle: Hey, Ki Khobor (you bitch whore)

Slit/Rastorni: Good good, How are you??
Woman of the Huddle: Not Bad, Eito Cholche (magi tor jene laab ki)


Slit/Rastorni: Hows your boyfriend, Hows his work?
Woman of the Huddle: Yeah both are good, keeps him busy (and don't even think of saying hi to him or I'll slit your eyes wide open)


Slit/Rastorni: Cool, so we should totally hang out for coffee one day.

Woman of the Huddle: Yeah sure (khaya daya amar kaaj nai)

Well atleast thats my deduction of the whole faking it. We're all fakers, everyone fakes it. You fake handbag it...I mean come on, even I know the LV logo...you can't just go to Bangkok and suddenly sport the latest LV bags (yes plural), when u come back home and pronounce it as LOO-ISH VI-TOM. Faking it is the core of our existence. You shouldn't be worried about what the label on your jeans or t-shirt says...you should just be proud with a normal pair of jeans and a t-shirt that accentuate the curves of your bottom and your breasts. Its as simple as that. And before I end...I would like to give some friendly advice to some of you oversized ladies out there (and I'm not being a pig, I'm saying this for your benefit)...please don't wear French Connection UK tops that say "FCUK ME"...Coz honestly thats not what us guys are gonna be thinking...and for all you women out there who are thinking, OMG this blogger is such a bastard...yes yes I maybe...but inside you know...now your FAKING IT...coz you know I'm saying it how it is!!!! Till next time folks....

The One Abt Neccessities

Its like its everything is about Fashion and Makeup these days. Specifically my angst is about the fact that everything is about WOMEN these days. Not only have they achieved the titled of "the fairer sex" but they want to be the nucleus of every atom that exists in this world. I mean I love the fact that the world is all about women, hell even our country is run by women (although they do fall at the bottom of the barrel when it comes to looks...well actually kinda outside the barrel)...but makeup and fashion is there specifically for women. Every other day there are ads, notifications, annoucements directed at women saying "Hey...you wanna look hotter than you already are" or "Something new is out and it doesn't work but its really really chic if people know u have it". You don't see ads directed at men with so much effort. "Hey guys...get upto 20% discount on the latest man bracelet which makes you look all gangsta" or "You wanna be a funky man...how abt the latest crotchless undies which doubles the size of your penis and gurantees you a lay". Yeah. Men don't have those priviledges.

Guys have a set amount of clothes in their wardrobe. 3 suites - Black, Grey and a Black pin strip. 4 sets of formal office trousers, 8-9 formal shirts rotated based on the 5 day work week. Women on the other hand have the incandescent urge to have outfits tailoured every 2 weeks. They even have outfits made specifically for going to the tailor to give measurements for another outfit.

A woman needs approximately 3 wardrobes, homewear, funky casual wear and the knock em dead wear. A man shares his sock draw with his underwear draw. And don't get me started on shoes. I don't even wanna go there coz someone told me blogs are supposed to be short and sweet. But lets just say, if we rounded up the shoes and sandals of JUST your closest nearest and dearest...I bet you the line would be longer than that of cars qued up in front of a fucking CNG gas station...during rush hour...on a weekday!!!

The basic neccessities for a guy are: his deodrant, his cologne, his shower gel, his shaving gel, his hair gel (no offence bald readers) and his facewash.

The basic neccessities for a woman are: her shampoo, her lush double lather chemical free soap,her scrub, her facewash, her facepack, her exfoliating wash, her pre shampoo, her post leave in conditioner, her after shower cream, her post cream mnoisturizer, her body butter, her body oil and then she moves onto her makeup: her foundation, her tonner, her concealer, her base makeup, her eye shadow, her blush on, her rouge, her eye liner, her lipstick, her lip liner, her body mist, her deodrant, her...I can't go on...I could but I can't...its just endless. And have you seen the way women put on their makeup?? Lets just say their facial muscles suddenly develop the elasticity of ectoplasm. It can shapeshift and morph into any position and hold onto that position until the job is done. I mean I've seen faces that turn into the SCREAM movie mask. I ask all you women out there, why do you need this, why do you do torture yourselves in such a manner. Well I'm just a grumpy fart and nothing but I complainer. Coz I think I know the answer already. You Women, go through all this for us MEN. Its simple. You wanna be appreciated, you wanna be gawked at by the opposite sex, you wanna be the envy of the same sex and you wanna feel good about it. In fact, your the ones that are the real hardworkers in this world.

I can complain all I want, but the truth of the matter is, us men love what you women do. We may think your process is slightly OCD, crazy, weird and that your possessed by satan (biggest of your facial expressions during makeup) but we love it none the less. At the end of it, I for one would be highly disappointed if I walked out in the streets and saw a woman who didn't make the effort, unless your really ugly...in which case god didn't give you a chance and you should blame him. The bottom line is when your out on that first date, your thinking, wow the guy is so funny, while we're thinking, man those lips are amazing.

In all truth and honesty...I think todays blog was probably pointless...I set out to whine and nag...but once again I have been bested by the opposite sex. All you women out there...your the ones that bring colour into the black and white lives of every single man...

The One Abt Nothing!!!

Nothing...When you cross a certain age...Life should be aimed at trying to achieve a moment for...Nothing!!! Nowadays its very difficult to take a moment out from the hustle and bustle of daily life to do just NOTHING. And I'm quite serious, by "Nothing", I am referring to the basics of lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling and doing nothing, watching paint dry, staring at the windshield wipers as the rain accumulates and wipes it clean or even sleeping with your eyes open. After a certain point in time, everyone is inundated with responsibilities and duties of all magnitudes that a moment to oneself has become a priceless relic.

Tell me if any part of what I am about to tell you resembles some part of your life. Take a deep breath and read on:

From the moment we wake up to the moment we shut our eyes at night, we have an impulse to be on the go. I see "responsible" people waking up at 6am...getting ready...getting their kids ready...leaving a half eaten breakfast...crumbs on their freshly pressed clothes...doing the school run...stuck in traffic...heading into work... getting an earful from their "passed the age of retirement" boss...scoffing on mid morning shingara's to avoid the grumbling sounds of the stomach in the next meeting...staging white lies to sneak out and run personal errands...back in time for a quick lunch and the obligatory gravy stain on the tie...taking a quick nap with their eyes open in front of the computer...rushing to finish up the days work within the last 45 mins of the work day...getting into a car driven by a disgruntled driver who's always asking for an advance before the end of the month...while your heads being knocked back and forth with the rash braking due to the snails pace traffic...your wife or partner calling and yelling that something that you were suppose to do has not been done and in addition giving you a list of stuff he/she expects you to bring back home with you...a barrage of complaints about the incompetant guards and maids and other staff come rolling in as soon as the car approaches the driveway...you wash up and kick back and your partner wants to tell you abt the shit she's faced all day...while he/she is yapping on you sit and mentally chalk out the to-do list for tomorrow...immediately you start getting ready for a prior engagement that you were committed to...you venture out in the evening traffic this time cursing every moving thing on the road (since your driving now)...go spend some quality time with others and make small talk with a bright smile on your face...sneak towards the doorway so that the hosts don't see you leave...curse the fuckers who are out at 11.30 at night causing the traffic tailbacks...just as your better half or partner has a craving for movenpick...get home...half undress...zonk to the bed as your eyes start to zone out...and with the little concious state of mind you have you set the alarm for the next bloody day....

Does that sound familiar...Where is YOUR time...when can you actually just get some time to yourself and just take a step back and do nothing...its a rare commodity this "Nothing"...and a priceless one at that...not even bloody mastercard can give you "Nothing". So, I urge all of you, whether your a man or a woman, make the time to do "Nothing" atleast once a day. Because responsibilties will always remain but Nothing is very difficult to grab a hold of. I honestly believe that "Nothing" is the best way to recharge your mind, refresh your thoughts, restart your body and most important of all you'll be doing "Nothing" just for YOU, and no one else!!!