Monday, December 08, 2008

Jus browsing...

I was just browsing the net today and came across something fun. Don't all of us have a point to make, some of us on almost everything. Well that's the point of the site called "What's your point?". Find out how many people think the same way you do.

Pros: Very random, Good for those sleepy afternoons at work, Bright colors.

Cons: Can be addictive, Makes a little noise so turn down the volume, No boss protection.

I am EmeraldFoamBulldog and I think this website is cool, and that's my point.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Ha ha ha ha....

What a joke!!!!!!!! Yes I have the time to write... A hiatus of 6 months, alternating between a multitude/myriad/n to the power infinity of emotions, choose whichever what do they say... "makes your world go around". I'll be darned dashed and a blistering fool too if I say that I care about what you like.

Like someone I know says "Presentation is the name of the game". Write utter gibberish in bulleted points and watch 'em lap it up. So here goes my bulleted point outloook of the last six months(or should I call it the insider's scoop... get it insider's ha ha ha... what a joke... wait am I going around in circles... must be confused as usual... and why am I still writing within the brackets). Oh and by the way I dont care if you are still reading. I am WELL and truly beyond that friggin point. "Ohhh Sumod you just abused. This is not correct. Such a bad thing you know.".. Bugger off arsehole!!!

Yeh hain amrika meri jaan...
-----------------------------

Excited... yo baby... amrika here I come. Fast life, gori mems and dollar mein kamayee. That's what I was thinking all the way to the airport... the exact same waves of pleasure were swimming in my head, in slow motion of-course, two sparkling waters down at 10,000 feet in the air (Isn't that how high airplanes get... HIGH har har har get it HIGH... God I am killing myself with my jokes).

Work work work....
-------------------

Of course I had conveniently forgotten that there was something called work that needed to be done. RFA230 came back to haunt me. I will not explain what that is... those who know that this is the "longest and most excruciating project ever" just know it as a fact of life and the rest of you are better off not knowing what I just told you.

Beep... beep... beep... there I just deleted a whole lot of lines about a load of stuff related to work. Work issues - sometimes you face them but most of the times you create them. I am sure all of my employed friends know this and those of you who got fired this weekend you might just have to rethink your strategies. Oh and I am broke so I can't lend you those 500 dollars ($$$ dhik $$$ chik) that you had promised your gori girlfriend, so dont bother to call before you find a new job. Leave a voice mail when that happens will ya...

You get some you give a lot.
----------------------------

One thing I promise however is that I will never EVER EVER again in my life TAKE SHIT from anyone. I had promised myself the same thing earlier but sometimes one gets overwhelmed by the situation (obligation???) and tends to break promises made to oneself. So as an imposition:

I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again
I promise I will never take shit from anyone again.....

I hope you don't believe that I typed it out so many times. Naaah you don't need to teach a S/W engineer how to copy and paste, do you.

AND I WILL NEVER LOSE FAITH IN MYSELF... I am friggin what I fucking am.

Now coming to the part I like best. There is but one life to be irrevrent, insolent and ungreatful (not to your parents you dumb son/dot of a gun). So here I am as irrevrent and rude as it gets but "very humbly so" lest some dimwit reading this gets offended. Oh by the way if any of you blighters intend on pissing me off make sure you don't leave me breathing after that coz I swear upon my conscience that I will hunt you down and make you pay for it. All of you who know how immoral and unethical I am must be heaving a sigh of relief.... Conscience, immoral... opposites... get it Duh!!! Breathe now....

Heart aches/breaks/throbs and all that...
------------------------------------------

Lubh the most integral and elusive part of my life in India, chugs along just as merrily here. Not that I am getting all hot and bothered about it. Flings and flirts keep me going.... Wham bam thank you for the variety bhagwan...

Btw I prefer ebony to white and you brown ladies out there are the best.... Rock hard... ooops I mean rock on.

"Sumooooooooood what you are writing is pornography. Maybe that is what you are meant to write and not code"... Yes yes yes ... bugger off now before I have to personally come down there and whip your sorry ass.

Woooooooooow feels so good after this blog. Better than the best orgasm I ever had.... So here is to all you ppl out there... Enjoy and have a blast... but don't lose your head (Get it??? Blast... lose your head... har har har me and my jokes).

In spanking fine form,
Sumod

"Err... Sumod I thought you were going to write in bulleted points..."... Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Monday, February 18, 2008

A hair cut and a shave...

Hi all,

This is what I have been saying to people who have been asking "What have been upto?"; "Giving my blog a much required haircut and a shave."

Some stuff that I have put on the blog includes email subscription to the blog feed:

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

All you need to do now to subscribe to the Utopian Dream is to make your way to the dark green sidebar of the page and subscribe to the email feed. Alternatively you can subscribe to the feed on your MyYahoo, iGoogle or get it messaged to your phone using Pulsmo; all links given in the sidebar, below the shoutbox.

Also added a reader count chicklet just below the profile information to keep track of the number of subscribers to the blog.

So do subscribe to receive updates as soon as I blog. :-) Thanks guys and of course the gals!!!

Friday, February 08, 2008

The requiem of an advancing goalkeeper

I stand here transfixed, like one of those vampires from a B-grade Dracula flick, who just had a stake driven through the heart or whatever it is that vampires keep in their breast pockets. The only difference being that, in my favorite blue jersey, pair of black shorts, brand new Pike studs and gloves, I am way too abundantly clad to resemble one of those white sheets of horror in their birthday suits. Inside I feel just as pale and hollow. Through the cobwebs in my brain I see the advancing striker who to my clouded mind bears a stark resemblance to that sinful hero from Van Helsing, his name escapes me now. It does not matter, nothing intelligible is registering anyways. Every step he takes just doubles the weight causing that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The only word that bounces off the walls of my skull and dives back into my brain like the hangover of a bad vocabulary test is Déjà vu.

It can’t be happening again. The colors and layers that make up the landscape seem to fall apart like bricks under the onslaught of a wrecking ball, only give way to scenes from another day. I feel like I have been teleported back in time, to the match against Al Brahrim. I had gotten to know just before the start of the match that I was going to be presented with the award for the league’s MVP (Most Valuable Player). My team regardless of the results of today’s match had been crowned league champions. Boundless joy jumped up and down in the confines of my brain and just like today but under extremely different circumstances; nothing was registering in the mind. The game seemed headed for a dull goalless draw thanks to some spineless display from the forwards of both the teams. Both my counterpart and I were having an easy day at office if one could say so about a goalkeeper’s job. Deep into injury time I began to unwind and my already meandering mind seemed to take off into another dimension. There I pictured myself receiving the MVP award with the love of my life cheering me from the stands as I winked at her and blew her a kiss to serve as a reminder for what was in store later. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Al Brahrim’s star striker Wadghi Al Kebib start to make a powerful run with the ball. Shutting out the delicious thoughts wiggling around in my mind I focused on the job at hand.

Al Kebib was the very best the league had to offer. At 6 ft 1 inch he was just about the perfect height for a striker and his lightening speed was enough to strike terror in the hearts of the best defenders and goalkeepers. No not me, I knew that I was prepared. I was considered one of those natural goalkeepers who shared an unique bond with the football. It seemed to follow me, literally do hysterics in the air to reach me not quite unlike the iron filings attracted by a powerful magnet. Back in the field it was a two on one situation, two of my best defenders against the best center forward in the league. The hunter was being stalked. Not for long though. He sold a dummy to the first defender and it soon looked like he was going to outrun the other defender. I didn’t want to make my move yet, let him come a bit closer. He was almost at the top of the box when I realized that it was now or never. It was the best opportunity to claim the ball as my own. I burst off my line, just as the second defender lunged forward desperately only to tackle thin air, as it was up to me now. I closed in on him alert of any attempt from him to chip the ball over my head at the slightest chance. I stumbled letting my guard down for a split second. That was all he needed; there he was going for the chip.

I regained my composure just as his foot made contact with the ball. To the horror of the home fans he had miscued the shot. Instead of sailing comfortably over my head, the ball almost apologetically dipped towards my feet, as the collective sound of thousands of people dejectedly slumping back into their seats emanated from the stands. I bent down gleefully with open arms to welcome the ball like one welcomes a lover who had a bad day at work being kicked around by people around him/her. This ill-fated love was however destined to go unrequited. The adulterous lover of a ball hit a bump in the ground and found its way through the gap between my legs and rolled over the dreaded white line to snuggle comfortably in the corner of the net far away from my reach. I was left rooted in an utterly awkward position, bent over and watching the ball through the gap it had so evidently left. The crowd erupted, but wait over those euphoric cries of the fanatical supporters I could hear another sound. Peals of laughter made their way to my ears completing my humiliation. Video clips of my slip up would be played over and over again in the days to come and autopsies conducted by the pundits of TRP hungry sports broadcasters; on why I had missed. It didn’t really matter though; nothing intelligible was registering in my mind anyways.

I close my eyes to try and refocus on the task at hand. Just yesterday my agent had told me that Real Arizona United, the best football club in the world had finally agreed to a 5 year $20 million contract. I was elated, I was rich and I was going to play for my dream club. Everything is just perfect, way too perfect. I open my eyes to see that Van Helsing, let’s call him that till I recall his name, has already dodged two defenders and is about to outpace the third. I have to leave my line and move forward to try and thwart his attempt. My body wants to move but I am rooted to the spot. Any super glue manufacturers who see me now will immediately sign me on for one of their commercials. Shrugging off the last defender Van unleashes a powerful shot. I dive instinctively, thankfully in the right direction. There is too much swerve on the ball, I am not going to get to it, I should have moved forward, but what if the ball had refused to come into my grasp again. An indecision I am going to regret or is it. Is there too much swerve on the ball, looks like there is a chance it might miss the net. It doesn’t really matter does it? I had not shown the guts to advance. Nothing else matters now and nothing intelligible is registering in my mind anyways.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Some equations....

Dominant force - Underhand tactics = Not so dominant after all.

Indian team spirit * Strong captain at the helm = Come thumbs up down under

World champion team / Soul searching = Looking up Kaptain Kumble's number

Talented youth + Time tested experience = Winning Combination

Salaam India :-)
Sumod

Sunday, January 13, 2008

CAR! Aaru N(j)ano???

Picture Courtesy: http://wheels.blogs.nytimes.com/

For those uninitiated to the mallu language; the title of this post means "CAR (huge exclamation) who me???" Why not; after all the Nano just costs a lakh. So now even njan (moi) can own a Nano.


According to the pundits Tata's new indigenous economic wonder is all set to give the 2-wheeler market a run for it's money. The overwhelming feeling is that people who are already poised to buy a car will not opt for a Nano now as it might be considered a step back. Hence the Swifts and the Santros can breathe easy for now. The natural target is the 2-wheeler owning junta who now have a chance consider the safety and capacity of 4 wheels over their trusty steeds not to mention the obvious pride at having doubled the number of wheels owned. Another obvious customer segment could comprise of existing car owners who might want a spare car but could not find a way of fitting it into the budget earlier. There will also be a set of hobby buyers but that will probably be a very small segment.

Although it is too early in the day to comment about the sucess of this venture one has a feeling that this category of economy class cars is here to stay and will herald new cost cutting and process improvement measures in the car manufacturing process. The Tatas have just lowered the bar for entry into the psuedo elite car owners society. Obvious business strategies by key competitors like Maruti would be to reduce the cost of the 800 to under a lakh.

Moving on to the other eco in this equation; the adverse ecological effects that Nano could probably cause. A low priced car could only lead to the increase in congestion and emission of CO2 equivalent gases. Estimations made in an article in the Economic Times suggests that in the next 5 years Nano will only attribute to an 8% increase in the CO2 levels. Not as drastic as a few might say.

For now let us wait and watch as to how the script unfolds for Tata's Little Wonder.


Also check:


With Cars in Reach, Indians Must Learn to Drive (January 11, 2008)


Four Wheels for the Masses: The $2,500 Car (January 8, 2008)


Happy Driving,

Sumod

Chuckle chuckle chuckle... just felt like posting this.

This post will smack and reek of an overdose of narcissism. So roll out your tounges and unclog your nostrils if you want to enjoy it. Just kidding... This is just a self indulgent post which brinks on narcissism and is most definitely a waste of web space. Well actually it might not be that bad when you compare it with the ones featured on http://www.worstoftheweb.com/; absolute peaches a couple of them. Be sure to check out their archive while you are at it.

The post that follows this intro is a collection of one liners and multi-liners that I have used in order to divert attraction towards me and some of the noble causes I stand for (to be read as "increasing the readership of the Utopian Dream"). So here goes:

About Me

  • Some say I am a nice guy, some say I am goon material, some say I am funny, some say I am wierd... Yet some more say i am cute and there are a few who believe I am mean. Gosh are these ppl messed up or what... (Orkut, Blogger et al)


  • Rutting Rat, Strutting Frog... I am mad and I sleep like a log. (Shoutbox on Yahoo 360)

  • A bad poet, who cant sit quiet. mirror cracking material, waiting for an experience par surreal a lil loony a lil arse headed but, waiting for my "screw" like any nut (About me on Yahoo 360)


G-talk status a.k.a my worst (to be read as best) one-liners.

  • All projects are in the pipeline and I am in the drainage. (Self explanatory right??? Else gimme a call on +91-9886548049 and I will explain.)

  • Immortal Till I Die. (On one of those arrogant days when I felt that only death can stop me from getting what I want... much to the amusement of my boss)


  • Shit falls exactly when i forget my umbrella. (One rainy day when I forgot my umbrella, got shat on by a crow perched on the tree i selected to stand under, had a mailbox jampacked with work, a couple of absconding and a couple of aberrant resources all packed into one)


  • finally not @ ofc, chillin @ home , back @ ofc (the cycle hmmmm no the circle of my life a.k.a "A big zero")


  • bring on the champagne... (a message to ring in the year 2008... here is to all that did not happen in 2007)


  • no not really... (On days when my answer to any question you ask including "Do you use your brain at all?" would be "no not really"...)



  • Available... but at a price. (chuckle chuckle chuckle... Sumod you pervert)


That's all folks. These are the ones fresh in my mammary. I swear that I will keep this post updated with the latest. So come back for more if you haven't had enough already. Oh people, one more thing, if you see the above lines being used elsewhere then please get back to me before the actual owner of the line does.

Note: Any reference to any of my resources, bosses or animal friends is purely coincidental and not entirely intentional.

Adios ppl,
Sumod
"Jack of one liners and master of none."

Monday, January 07, 2008

No monkey business this...

Enough said about the on field antics of a certain cricketing team. Let us leave it to the high priests of cricket to sort out matters between the two teams. Let's see how life as we know it will be affected by this incident:



Act 1 Scene 1



Some kids playing gilli-danda in a posh Indian village (somewhere in modern day Gujrat I am led to believe)



Bhajju: (patting Lijju's bottom) Oye... why in god's name is Simmu jumping around like a monkey. Has he got the crabs???


Simmu: Oh... teri maa ki aankh... tune mujhe bandar bulaya. Chal sarpanch ke paas u bloody homo.


Haggu: (He has just returned from a tour to the UK with a hangover... oops stopover in Australia) Good on u mate... Let's teach this bawstard a lesson.


Sachu: Arrey mere priya doston shanti rakho...


Yuvesh: Arrey yeh log kaise rakh sakte hain... Shantipriya toh mere saath hain... Nahin doonga nahin doonga (jumps around in glee and accidentally sits down on the danda... ouch !@#$)


Donu: Chokri gayee... chokri ke peeche bhaagte bhaagte naukri gayee... ab kahin yeh log mujhe team se nikal na de..... I should have stuck to tennis.... Bas paani bujhaye pyaas baaki all means loads of cash :-)


Kumbhu: Only one team is playing in the right spirit.


Pintu: You are right mate * hic * (Holding up his half empty bottle of Faujster)


Bhakki: What's goin on??? Who switched off the lights???


Bensu: Dunno yaar... let's ask Pintu, he is the only one with the right spirit.


Bhakki: Maybe imbibing some of that spirit will improve my eyesight. Wat say?



Bensu: Dunno yaar... let's ask Pintu bhaiya.

Someone switches on the floodlights and all of them make their way to meet the Sarpanch.



Act 1 Scene 2



A panchyat has been called. Everyone is present and case has been stated. The arrogant but just Sarpu as he is lovingly called is about to deliver his verdict...



Sarpu: Ladies and gentleman. The moment all of you have been waitin for. The verdict in the racial abuse case. And the talented player who came in second today is... Ladies and gentleman IT IS ......................................................................... time for a short break... Duh... Of course you are watching this on TV... Only our satellite can transmit these pictures direct into ur living room... So mere doston iss se jyaada kuch bhi mat wish karo....

Thankfully there is only one commercial... where a certain gentleman puts a part of himself... in his purplish magentaish brownish pink mailbox... the only problem is that he forgot his password... Now the poor guy can't take his part out... The poor AzwhOL..

Sarpu: Welcome back ladies and gentleman (winks knowingly at Sachu)... The votes are in and the verdict is out. You the junta found Bhajju guilty of racial abuse. We therefore sentence Bhajju to cough up a hefty sum of 2.3 dozen bannanas to the victim of this abuse.

Simmu, Pintu and their group of rowdy ruffians form a huddle and jump up and down for joy. Some of them pump their fists at the bystanders almost beheading some respectable villagers. It takes one back to the days when Ramayan used to be aired on national T.V. and Ram and his Vanar sena jumped up and down for joy after defeating the ten (or was it eleven) headed Ravana in an epic battle... Darn it's making me nostalgic.

Simmu: We won... Pintu bhaiya we won...

Sarpu: Not so fast my son. When did I say you won. I was talking about the complaint on racial abuse lodged against Bhajju by the village's favorite monkey Chimpu. He came to me before you found your way here and accused Bhajju of racially abusing and degrading him by comparing him to you. So the 2.3 dozen bannanas and our heartfelt apologies for this unfortunate incident to Chimpu.

The village erupts in joy... Pintu falls to the ground and starts retching... must be from an overdose of the right spirit.

Don't go away I will be back tomorrow with Act 2 of this critically acclaimed prime time hogging drama.

Luv,

Sumod