Truly Exotic Food

Sarah Palin comes to India and wants to visit a dhaba. Sonia Gandhi takes her to a dhaba on the road to UP. They order. The food comes. Palin takes a bite.

Palin: Eeks. Waiter, waiter, come here.

Sonia: Wait, he won’t come if you call. Let me call him. Manmohanji!

Waiter Manmohan: Yes madam. Is the food okay?

Palin: No, it isn’t. I ordered Moose Masala. This doesn’t taste like moose to me.

Waiter Manmohan: That’s right madam, moose not available here. Local food inspector Kamal Nathji won’t allow. This is a replacement. Very exotic dish, you will like.

Palin: But I wanted moose! Anyway, what meat is this then?

Waiter Manmohan: Madam, this is lightly braised human foetus, freshly sourced from a tribe threatened by extinction.

Palin: My god! How dare you?

Waiter Manmohan: But I thought you will like, Madam. Haven’t you read Nilanjana Roy’s latest column?

Mine Is Bigger Than Yours

IANS reports from Durban:

Three men were shot dead and two left injured after an argument between a group of Indian and white visitors to a bar here, allegedly over the size of genitals.

[…]

A worker at the bar, who requested anonymity for fear of reprisal, said a customer of Indian origin had remarked to a white customer while they were both at the urinal in the bar that his penis was bigger than that of the white customer.

“After both men returned to their friends, the two groups began swearing at each other before the group of five Indian men left the scene and all returned with firearms. They opened fire and three guys died on the spot.”

Now, this is one of those rare fights that is explicitly about penis size. But my contention is that all fights between men, in some way or the other, are about who has a bigger dick. No?

(Link via email from Gautam, who found it at Boing Boing.)

PS: Actually, this could be the hidden dynamic even when women are involved. This is how the debate between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden should really unfold:

Palin: Peanut!

Biden: Big enough for you!

Palin: Peanut!

Biden: You don’t even have one! Boo!

Palin: Smaller than even Obama’s, isn’t it? Confess now, didn’t you peek when you were standing besides him at the campaign urinal? Eh? Tell, tell, the nation is watching. Say ‘boo’ again!

Biden: Boo hoo. Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo.

Palin: Peanut!

Lovers And The Box Office

DNA reports:

Ranbir [Kapoor] and Deepika [Padukone] are not showing any interest in doing films together after seeing what happened to Kareena Kapoor and Shahid Kapur in all their films until their break-up. The two were seen together in films like Fida and 36 China Town before their break-up, but both the films bombed.

However their Jab We Met, which came after the two separated, was a huge success. Recently Kareena featured with her current boyfriend Saif Ali Khan in Tashan and that bombed too.

If the report is true—and with film journalism one must include that caveat—then this is one of the silliest instances of mistaking correlation for causation that I have come across. And I can just imagine what will happen if their films start flopping and they’re desperate for a hit.

Ranbir: Deepika, I think we need to break up.

Deepika: Why?

Ranbir: Deepika, it’s because I’m a guy, and I’m bored now, and I want new chicas.

Deepika: What the fug??

Ranbir: Calm down, I’m joking. I love you and want to be with you, but I shall sacrifice my happiness for the sake of your career. You need a hit, and I know how to deliver one to you. Let’s break up, and then act in a film together. Remember Jab We Met?

Deepika: Good idea. Oh, you’re sho shweet, always caring for me!

Ranbir: That I am.

Mr Macho Prime Minister

This is quite the headline of the day:

Russia’s PM saves TV crew from Siberian tiger.

This is where an image of Manmohan Singh wrestling with a peacock comes into my head. He’s trying to save a young schoolgirl from our national bird, and is on the ground trying to pin it down.

Schoolgirl: Manmohan uncle, Manmohan uncle, that peacock wasn’t harming me. Why are you fighting it?

Manmohan: Because I’m a man, that’s what I am. What did Soniaji mean by sending me a link to that ridiculous news piece about Putin? I can also fight. I am also macho. Hey, come back. Peacock! Come back!

(Link via email from Dhananjay.)

The Patience of Monks

The quote of the day comes from a Welsh monk who has shifted to broadband from a dial-up connection:

Patience is one of the characteristics of monastic life, but even the patience of the Brothers was tested by our slow internet.

I suspect their patience would also be tested if ICICI Bank called them 600 times a day offering them a loan to buy a toaster, or suchlike. ‘I’m a monk,’ I can imagine one of them telling the call center guy, ‘I don’t need a toaster.’

‘Are you sure, sir?’ the reply comes. ‘It’s a zero-interest loan.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Okay, what about a free credit card then? We’ll give free add-on cards to your family as well.’

(Link via email from Sanjeev.)

Savita Bhabhi and the Moral Police

I’d like to humbly suggest a brief storyline to the fine creators of Savita Bhabhi:

It is a hot summer day. Savita Bhabhi is relaxing at home in a skimpy choli and petticoat, and no underwear. The doorbell rings. She opens the door and finds three stern-looking policemen.

“Yes, gentlemen,” she says. “How can I help you?”

“Er, we are from the moral police,” the chief inspector says. “We have come to warn you about your behaviour.”

“What behaviour?” says Savita Bhabhi.

“Your lewd and lascivious conduct,” says one policeman.

“You are corrupting the youth of our country,” says another.

“Sex is not in our culture,” says their chief. “We grow babies on lotus flowers.”

“Oh really,” says Savita Bhabhi. “Then I promise to behave. But why don’t you gentlemen come in and have some nimbu sharbat? It is a hot day, and all of you are sweating.”

Well, you know what happens next—it ends in, ahem, free expression. And here, via email from MadMan, is what inspired me to think of this storyline.

Also, Sanjeev points me to the line of the day, from the Savita Bhabhi website:

All the positions in the Savita Bhabhi team are voluntary and honarary.

Heh.

Earlier…

Nonsense With Emphasis

The anecdote of the day comes from Lou Cannon:

In 1976, [Gerald] Ford had never run for office beyond his Grand Rapids congressional district; while an estimable human being and an underrated president, he was a plodding campaigner and often a dreadful public speaker. His speechwriters once tried to improve his delivery by writing the words “WITH EMPHASIS” in the margin of his text. Ford, denouncing something or other as “nonsense,” incorporated the notes into his speech and told a startled audience: “I say to you this is nonsense with emphasis!”

Meanwhile, it seems that Hillary Clinton has said that she is ready to be the VP candidate of a man she has constantly decried as being too inexperienced for the top job and not “ready on day one.” Heh. I can imagine the following scenario:

The bedside clock shows 3 am. Hillary Clinton’s phone rings. She picks it up.

Hillary: Hello. Who is this?

Obama’s voice: Hillary, hi, this is Barack. I hope I didn’t wake you up.

Hillary: No, of course not, Barack. Tell me, what is it?

Obama’s voice: Hillary, I have a question to ask you.

Hillary: I know what it is! Yes I will join you on your ticket! Together we will win! All the women will vote for me, I’m a woman! All white people will vote for me, I’m white! All Americans will vote for me, I’m entitled, I’m a Clinton! I even promise to keep Bill out of your wing in the White House, provided I have the budget to hire interns!

Obama’s voice: Er, actually, what I was going to ask was…

Hillary: Yes?

Obama’s voice: … can you lend me your recipe book? I’m told you’re a really good cook.

Hillary shrieks, and then finds that Bill is shaking her as she lies on the floor, clutching the phone.

Bill: What happened, honey, did you have a bad dream? You must come to bed now, you’ve been lying besides the phone for hours, and you fell asleep like this.

Hillary: I know. Yes, I guess I had a bad dream. But I’ll stay awake now. I’m not leaving the phone.

Bill: Why?

Hillary: Because I’m not a quitter.

The Dayavan Kiss and the Censor Board Lady

The Bollywood revelation of the day comes from Feroz Khan:

When the censor board lady objected to the two-minute kiss in Dayavan I asked her, ‘Haven’t you experienced this or else your husband is not a romantic man, ignoring a beautiful lady like you?’

Charming. (I wish he’d tried that line for a full-on sex scene.) I can imagine the censor board lady, presumably a 55-year-old housewife, going home and confronting her husband.

Censor board lady: You haven’t kissed me in 20 years now!

Husband: Eh? Where did that come from? It’s time for my tea.

Lady: You are not a romantic man!

Husband: Eh? Where did that come from? Can you repair the tear in my banyan please?

Lady: I am a beautiful lady and you are ignoring me!

Husband: Eh? Where did that come from? Didn’t I buy you a saree just three years ago?

Lady: That was three years ago.

Husband: Okay, I’ll buy you another saree then. And if you really want a kiss… [gets up to kiss]

Lady: Ugh. Coming to think of it, saree will do. Let’s go to Kala Niketan.

Don’t You Die Tonight

All you who sleep tonight
Far from the ones you love,
No hand to left or right
A coffin lid above –

Know that you aren’t alone
Many others share your fate,
You’re lucky you’ve already gone,
Or you’d have to wait.

My apologies to Vikram Seth, but I couldn’t resist being inspired after reading the WTF news of the day:

The mayor of a village in southwest France has threatened residents with severe punishment if they die, because there is no room left in the overcrowded cemetery to bury them.

In an ordinance posted in the council offices, Mayor Gerard Lalanne told the 260 residents of the village of Sarpourenx that “all persons not having a plot in the cemetery and wishing to be buried in Sarpourenx are forbidden from dying in the parish.”

It added: “Offenders will be severely punished.”

I’d love to be the cop responsible for punishing offenders.

Constable Varma, I haven’t seen you for a week, where have you been?

Sir, remember the old lady who popped it last Sunday? I went to the afterlife looking for her.

I see. And you bought an “I love Cannes” T-shirt over there?

(Link via email from Phani Vajapeyazula.)

Vice, Virtue and Saudi Arabia

Remember the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice? Well, Aadisht has an informative post on them, which informs us, to begin with, that the correct term for them is the Committee for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice. Aadisht then shares glimpses of their history with us.

It turns out that they once banned pets in Saudi Arabia because they were considered a Western influence.

“One bad habit spreading among our youths is the acquisition of dogs and showing them off in the streets and malls,” wrote Aleetha al-Jihani in a letter to Al-Madina newspaper. “There’s no doubt that such a matter makes one shudder.”

“Then what’s the point of dragging a dog behind you?” he added. “This is blind emulation of the infidels.”

This is harmless, but not what they did in 2002, when they “stopped schoolgirls from leaving a blazing building because they were not wearing correct Islamic dress.” Fifteen girls died.

I can just imagine the following scene:

Eight members of the Committee for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice are walking along the road. From the opposite side, a young man approaches. The young man is walking a dog. The dog is clad in a burqa.

The Committee goon stops him. “Hey boy,” he says. “How dare you walk a dog? Do you not know that is vice?”

The young man says: “I am not walking a dog, I am walking my sister. She is short. Being a good Saudi girl, she is all covered up. That is virtue.”

The Committee goons look at each other.

The young man continues: “Do you want me to prove it is my sister? I’ll have to remove her burqa for that?”

The Committee goon says, “Eh, no, no, no, continue. It’s okay. Have a good day.”

The young man moves on. The Committee goon’s sidekick looks at the Committee goon and says: “Did you hear his sister bark?”