That rat bastard pineappler is gunning for my Gawker crush. can't challenge him to a duel since his second will be that civil war reenactor JohhnySqueeze-the-weasel. I've heard some fucked up stories about that dood. Supposedly he has a militia of six thousand elephants he stole from Nugent's farm.

Fake drama aside, I did reach a milestone. made a post no one commented on. I had always wanted an empty comments section; everyone respecting the sanctity of the soapbox.

There was one miniscule episode of drama IRL which could have been avoided had I learnt txtsp34k. Texting in complete sentences makes dry sarcasm sound like real anger to the other person. So here's some unsolicited advice: Don't go easy on exclamations - put a smiley or 'yo' - because everyone else is not a cynical guckdribble like CLT denizens who can sense the faintest whiff of irony.

Summer Doldrums are killing me though. Its the time between crops of my dear carrots. Next batch of produce is only gonna appear after the monsoons. The next few months are gonna be tough.


I wrote a tweet-cycle-poem-sort-of which has grown too big. I think it goes here.

every time I've to ride into town, a second of hesitation while I consider exposing myself to risk of accident and pollution.

townie in suburbia. its the old tale of two cities. fuck the expat/NRI satelite towns.

Suburbia is for immigrants who are raising kids. Town is for locals to raise kids and immigrants who wanna act like kids.

I am more careful riding when stoned. Paranoia makes you respectful. banged my scooter sober in daylight.

hello early morning runner I see when I return from the city, what are you rnnning from?

love riding after a tropical shower. cold wind in my face as I rush to my lover or to my home.



To make amends for the music I put you guys through everytime I am drunk, here's a super smooth cosmopolitan tune. Take a vacation.