KYA HOGA MEE-MOH KAA???

Ok! Hold your breath because the news that I am going to tell will make you jump out of your seats. Alright...get ready for this...buckle up.

Thanks to brother bilkul’s contacts down south & their contacts down south & their contacts’ contacts down south, we have just got THE copy of THE script of THE movie which is going to be MEE-MOH’s launch pad...his ticket to stardom. The movie that will shake this world; the movie that will put all debutant actors to shame; the movie that will gross more money than any other movie once it releases.

I need not tell you who MEE-MOH is. Only hint I can give is that he is the son of an acting LEGEND; the SUPERSTAR who has given us blockbuste(d)r movies such as Cheetah, Shera, Hitler, Tabahi-the destroyer, Military Raaj etc to name a few; the disco-dancer who delivered these famous dialogues “tere jaat kaa baida maaru” & “aye,Kya re ??” which when translated in English sound “your caste’s eggs I throw” & “hey, WHADDAP” respectively.

Enough of beating around the bush, its time I reveal the story. Well, not everything. So here goes:-

The movie goes by the name “FINDING MEE-MOH” & it is a story of a DAD & his son & their struggle against today’s cruel filmi-world. Now, dancing-dad is a one-time bollywood super dud...no...I mean super stud. On one bright & sunny day, he is on the way to drop his son MEE-MOH for an audition. Obviously, MEE-MOH wants to ape his dad & be an actor. (by now, you must be comparing this story line with a famous anime movie-Finding Nemo...but trust me, this ain’t...and no one knows this but FINDING MEE-MOH was scripted well in advance & so the director & producer are suing DISNEY-PIXAR for stealing their title).

MEE-MOH’s attempts to crack into showbiz turn futile as the bollywood industry is run by godfathers like DON YASHRAJONE, DONNA K-JO, DON BARJATIONE, & DON ROSHANIONE. As MEE-MOH is not related to any of these families nor is he favored by them, MEE-MOH becomes increasingly frustrated. Even Factory owners like RAMMED-U preferred working with untalented members of his Union. Baby AB got movies directed by DON YASHRAJONE’s sons & heroes from outer space did wonders for DON ROSHANIONE. Donna K-JO had King-DON in every K-movie of it while DON BARJATIONE shot only marriage videos. Newly crowned don DON FARFAN was into remaking don-centric stuff. This was working totally against MEE-MOH. There was no place where he could show off his talent as no godfather was on his side.

So, after yet another rejection, all hell breaks lose as MEE-MOH decides to take matter in his own hands. He decides to produce-direct-script-act-sing-dance all the movies in which his dad had acted by either re-making them or by making their prequels & sequels.

The DONS come to know about MEE-MOH’s plans & so the team up together & secretly declare a full-fledged attack on him. Within couple of hours after “muhurat” of his first film, MEE-MOH’s sister gets ganged-up (not gonna tell by how many goons) & dies soon after(dead tired & traumatized I guess). On hearing the news, MEE-MOH bursts into the DON kaa “adda” and slays the Factory workers. Enraged by this act, DON YASHRAJONE orders his younger son TOAD-FACE & baby AB to finish MEE-MOH once n for all. Baby AB does not like this as he secretly admires MEE-MOH but when DON YASHRAJONE fires baba AB from his syndicate, baby realizes that he has no choice.

TOAD-FACE & baby AB are no match for MEE-MOH as he butchers them & sends their dead bodies back to the DON camp. Shattered shocked by MEE-MOH’s action, DON ROSHANIONE sends his super powerful, masked son FRISSSSSH along with his aide-de-camp ALIEN BOY to kidnap MEE-MOH. Little does anyone know that ALIEN BOY who went back home & then came back again is not the ALIEN BOY that everyone thinks he is but is actually his good-natured evil twin brother BOY ALIEN who is now on MEE-MOH’s side.

DON camp comes to know something went horribly wrong in their last attempt to attack MEE-MOH as they receive FRISSSSH’s mask & cloak with a big ‘M’ printed on it!!! Finally, the entire DON camp, which is biting its nails, sends King-Don to end MEE-MOH story. Kind-Don succeeds in abducting MEE-MOH in presence of his dad!!! Why?? Coz “ King-Don ko pakkadna mmmmmmushkilll hi nahi.... balki naa mummmmmmkinn hai!!’.... “ummmmmhmmmmm hmmmmm” (yup..u got that one correct). & then comes INTERMISSION!!!!!!!!

So, what will MEE-MOH's dad do? How will he find his beloved son? Will the deadly duo finish the godfathers? Will bollywood’s casting couch & favoritism ever end? To find out more, watch the movie people!!

ITS COMING SOON... IN THEATRES & MULTIPLEXES NEAR YOU!!!!



Peteboy

ViVAAh- THE FLIPSIDE

Last Tuesday, when I came home from college, my dad asked me if I could accompany him to a wedding reception. It was not a family wedding so we wouldn’t be hanging around for a long time. Plus there was some veg preparation for dinner & I thought “well if I have to eat veg food, I might as well eat it outside, coz it’s tasty & there is variety to choose from.” Hence I decided to join him.

My approach to wedding receptions has changed as I have grown up. When I was a toddler, attending a wedding was more a forceful act as my parents knew that if they keep me home, I’d harass my grandparents. This was followed by the ‘kid’ stage where it was more of playing ‘hide-n-seek’ & ‘cat-n-mouse’ with my cousins. I just didn’t bother about eating food or meeting anyone as I was busy running all over the place once I got there along with my cousins.

Next came adolescence where parties became a medium for ‘bird watching’, if you know what I mean!!! And now, its more of bird watching and eating FREE FOOD too. These days I don’t mind attending weddings which are non-related ones as I get to ‘watch’, eat and kill time. And as I said, eating is an important aspect.

Anyway, its time to talk about this wedding which I attended. Well, as it turned out, it was a series of unfortunate events rather (previous ceremonies attended were good actually). To begin with, the couple turned in an hour late. Now this is not good because if you are attending a non-relative wedding, the things that you want to are: meet the necessary people from the side that has invited you, sit for 10-15 minutes and unnecessarily keep on smiling since no one knows you but they shouldn’t think that you have come uninvited, greet the blissfully wedded couple, eat, & leave. All the activities are to be performed in one hour, MAX.

My dad didn’t have problem killing that one painful hour; he was busy chatting with his business associates. Meanwhile, I kept on checking out the ‘birds’ and I couldn’t believe there wasn’t a single good one. I mean, weddings bring out the best from female-kind. Even a plain-jane looks pretty in a Saree but this wasn’t the case here. It was indeed a sorry state of affairs when it came to LADIES. I kept assuring myself that the food would be good now that the prime objective was a complete disaster.

Then there was this Charlie Chaplin who was hired to keep small kids busy. The dude only had two tricks up his sleeve; one where he waved his hands & produced a toffee from anywhere and the other where he could wave his hand, twist his fingers & make a one buck coin vanish in thin air. Poor Charlie was getting F*CKED (I am sorry, words like ‘harassed’ & ‘pestered’ aren’t big enough to describe the state Charlie was in) by the little devils. The rambunctious little devils were all over him, shouting, pulling his coat, taking his hat away when he sat down to gasp a bit of fresh air, hitting him with his stick & what not. The entire party hall was reverberating with two words, “Charlie, chocolate”.

I then proceeded to the food corner, man I was damn hungry. It was time to satiate myself. They say that lightening doesn’t strike the same place twice. Well, here it did! Not only were the dames a disappointment, so was the food! Paneer tikka masala was magenta colored (I have only seen orangish colored ones before), the rotis, naan & parathas were made from rubber, rass malai had more water than milk (want me to continue? I can. But u get the picture, right???), & hakka noodles had more cabbage than the cabbage-field. Geez, I was better off eating daal-chawal, achaar & pulses at home rather than being here. Unfortunately, this story doesn’t end here.

Just as I turned around after “filling” my plate with food, a fat lady came towards me, smiling & waving and I was looking everywhere, confused, & with an expression, “who, me???”. The moment she was right next to me, she starts, “arre beta Manish, paichana? Mein, Roshni aunty; tumhari mummy ki mausi ki naani ke bhai ki potay ki phoophi” and I am like....... Woah! Woah! Woah! Lady, no need to throw a light on this relationship. I am not related to anyone of you here. I just came to hog free food and that too coz someone invited me.

Luckily, her daughter came there and told ‘Roshni aunty’ that I was not the ‘Manish’ she thought I was and by the way... what a daughter!!! Finally, a good no wait...a really really good looking lady. Man! “Roshni aunty, I’d surely wanna be related to you now!!!” But my wretched luck was out at it again, screwing me as always when I saw a small MANGAL-SUTRA hanging around her neck. And if this wasn’t bad enough, her hubby dearest joined our mini get-together. Quite a stud, that hubby dearest... pot bellied, gold chains hanging around his neck, twelve rings on ten fingers (do the MATH) and oh yes... munching Mawaa while having food (multi-tasking). The daughter definitely deserved someone much better. I didn’t feel sorry for her, I felt ashamed of myself. If that dude can get such a lady, why am I still single??? Somebody, just shoot me!!!

On an ending note, the food was pathetic (oh I forgot, the fruits in fruit salad weren’t juicy & half of the ice-cream turned into milk), the ‘birds’ were a let down and Charlie was still getting screwed big time by the kids. Patient man that Charlie. Had anyone else been there, I am sure he would have stopped miming & started swearing profusely.

And just when I was getting in my car, I saw ‘Roshni aunty’ scorning at me, her body language clearly reading, “there goes the bastard who came here to hog free food!!!” & I gave her that killer look which read “what did I ever do to you, Auntyji; EVVVER!!!!” and then I called my mom, “hello! Mom? Have you kept any leftovers??? I am damn hungry!!”


Peteboy

DIVINE INVENTIONS !!!

Ok! I’ll shoot straight. My academic records are fucked up; my technical knowledge sucks; my homies have given up on me & at 21 years plus umpteen months I still don’t have a girlfriend. Forget girlfriend, I start palpitating when I see a good looking gal & just in case she happens to smile at me before speaking, (generally that never happens thanks to my “HRITIK ROSHAN” looks) I gibber & repel her. All in all, my life is a complete mess!

And then there is my brother Bilkulbakwas. His acads are as fucked up as mine (yeah…both of us vying for “whose the dumbest engineer of em all” crown); his passion is music & football but he landed up doing mechanical engineering; once a week he does have a “no-holds bar steel cage WWF match” with his Daddy-Yankee and despite being a CHICK-MAGNET, he hates MUMBAI gals just coz they are of “gharelu” types!!!

So, what does the world offer to low-lives like us whose careers have rock bottomed? I mean, lets be serious, no one is going to offer us any jobs & the first thing our parents are going to do after our graduation: - KICK us out of the house. Does that mean GAME over? (not just for 2 of us…I know most of you reading this are sailing in the same ship)

"HAVE NO FEAR,
TELESHOPPING NETWORK IS HERE!!!" … Huh??
“So, what’s new in that” you might ask. The answer is…DIVINE INVENTIONS.
Before you ask me, “what are those”, I’ll tell you… (hold your horses for God’s sake).
What I mean by DIVINE INVENTIONS is the “rudraksh kawach”, “lucky number pendent” & the “lakshmi padooka”.

To start with, let us look at the “RUDRAAKSH KAWACCH”. Now this item is specially marketed by some benignant company called TVC (Trust-Value-Commitment...yeah...my a$$) & our very own ‘pitamaha bhishma’ a.k.a the SHUCK-TEA-MAN! is their brand ambassador. The story behind rudraksh is not of prime importance and neither is the man endorsing the product. What really makes it HOL(E)Y is the miracles it pulls off.

So you have a first class engineer who is jobless & an MBA aspirant who cannot concentrate in his studies. Now these guys do not believe in this ‘rudraksh’ & all (sick) but it is always their respective sisters who believes in the asinine power(thru’ some other divine intervention) & tells them to “dharan” the ‘kawacch’ with “shraddha & bhavana”. (damn…shradhha & bhavana were two hotties from my junior college…I wonder what they are doing now-a-days???..i…err...back to the topic) & Lo! Before you know it…the engineer stud gets a decent job in MNC & the MBA dude clears BAT, RAT & CAT in one go only to land in all 4 IIMs. No effort, no studies, no hard-work… thanks to ‘rudraksh kawacch’ ki positive energy kaa kamal!!! Move over IMS & T.I.M.E...yeah...BYE BYE coaching classes. Sayonara...Suckers!!!

The second invention is the ‘lucky pendent’ which comes with your ‘lucky number’ on it (there is some complex mathematical calculation to know your lucky no.). The guy who was that hapless engineer in the ‘rudraksh’ ad is now a miserable husband with his equally miserable wife in this ad. Their love marriage suffers a setback (not because of adultery) because of ‘boori nazar waali society’ (then why stay there? move somewhere else, fools) & they almost get divorced without even thinking about their (non-existent) children. But then comes AUNTY no.1 to rescue who advises them) to wear ‘lucky number wala pendent’ & poof! They are back…in love…again!!! (divorce lawyers…pack your backs…sabhi divorcee-yon ki dawaa…lucky pendent!!! Me thinks divorce lawyers should wear that ‘kawacch’ thing to save their rozee-roti!!! )

Teleshopping’s final invention is the ‘lakshmi paduuka’. Now, this silver “lakshmi paduuka” comes with a special crystal “SHREE-YANTRA”. Businessmen who only deal in millions & billions (well...they don’t beat the saas-bahu serial wala tycoon...but...) are perennially under heavy debts in this advert. What more, they go on to describe it as

“pechlay ek saal se mera business ghatey mein jara raha tha, blah blah blah... ek dost ne muhje iss chamatkari cheez ke bare mein bataya...maine poorna wishwaas se uuski sthapana aapne office mein ki...aur jaise chamatkaar hi ho gaya...abb maine aapna karzaa chuuka diya aur bank mujhe naya business start karni ke liye LOAN bhi de rahi hai!!!”

which when translated sounds something like this:-

“for past one year, my business was suffering heavy loss,blah blah blah...a friend of mine told me about this magical item (the padooka off course)...i installed it in my office with total devotion & the magic worked!!! Now I have not only cleared my debts but the bank is ready to sanction a LOAN for my new business”.

Woah! Woah! Woah! Man... Monterey loss suffered over a year recovered within few days!!! Yes! Few days....Robbed a bank or what (any one up for heists!!!)??? And you know what? The reason for his company’s “ghaataa” is not the owner's mismanagement but a traitor who used to work for him (how filmi can it get???)!!! “Lekin, shree yantra ki kripa se sabb acchhha ho gaya”.

So, the message from TVC is loud & clear. After graduation, buy a “rudraaksh kawacch” & a call from some M.N.C is assured, no need for campus placement or monster.com/jobsahead.com, all you need is a caring sister who ‘believes’ in this stuff. Then, go marry some hottie (not the “gharelu” types, eh bilkul!!!) & ensure you are happily in LUUUUUUV by wearing the “lucky number pendent” and start your own business with “lakshmi paduuka” installed in your office so that you are never an in debt. In other words, you are always financially blessed.

I guess its time for me to shut-up & call 1800-get-me-a-rudraksh-kawacch hotline number. Who wants to prepare for the exams??? FIRST-CLASS, here i COME !!!!


Peteboy

Donna Karen Not Yet

To haann...this is what i noticed!!!!

See I’m not Sherlock Holmes or anything, but ever notice the way most engineers dress??? You know the shirt-jeans-sneakers...I mean you could sense a techie about couple hundred feet away...
The thing is, agreed that sort of dressing would curdle an innate magazine like Cosmo, but the sjs is far better than what I have to live with. I mean floral blouses, skin tight pants...aiyge this isn't what Avantika (the thespian of an old Marathi serial) wears but what guys around me wear!!!! ...guys, for Pete’s sake..... For your own sake...guy and flowers----> Darren Hayes and Elton john!!!

Okay I don’t know where to begin but I think I’ll start with the Everyday Formal-errs...self explanatory stuff huh!! I mean it man.....every fuckin day...I would skip a Russel Peters show to see Prof. Djindal Saboo, he's the heir apparent to the steel magnate (minus the N of course!!), at least that's what Beti-Chou insists on claiming, in ganjees and three-quarters.

As a rule the smaller they are the formaler they get....I mean smaller the ranks freaking perve....dick-sheet is an off 'n on member to their posse!! But man does dick-sheet love keeping an idiot busy!!!! Now dick-sheet has this bud charag, now charag (I refuse to believe anything else!!) in scorn of admission into frcrit has vowed never to change within a fortnight! To support his fortitude he manages to go the extra mile and use his garb as a pillow!

Now every college has its style bhais, our class da style bhai is so-deep, hats off to him man...he'll come as late as me (bakwas) on his 150cc pulsar (which he's never crashed....ever.....never ever.....I swear it....never!!) and with the jacket, and the wet look hair...boy he's got the look.... the carefully selected shirt whose pinstripes match a shade on his worked upon jeans....its nice to see somebody that enthu about college..

Man...This is gonna be fun!!!...about one of my buds foetur....if Micheal Jackson white'd himself by contracting vitiligo, foetur went the other extreme and black'd himself, not the 9 rings, and fubu jersey black, I mean "marijuana kills", "megadeth", "painkiller" black....he's like those queer maroo's who have to have black fabric, always touching their skin...But foetur's is the kind of maroo who worships Mary (with or without the Jane!!) and serves liquor during weddings (ceremony not reception).
Yeah about foetur, I think it was like the 2nd or 3rd sem, and a-la-foetur comes to the class door, I was all set to call 100-----and scream “freaks off the leash!!!!!!” (pardon me, I didn't know him too well)...as I come over the shock I see this 6 foot, exxxtra healthy kid at the door...now get a load of this....slippers- three quarters with terrible frays at the end, it still looks like a pom-pom cum tennicoit accessory attached to the ends of his three quarters, a ganjee, fortunately hidden under an open buttoned shirt- and ultimately- dark glasses.....I remember the lecturer going...kya hua re??? ....."Sore eyes sir!!!!”...The getup to celebrate his condition is the kinda stuff you get used to but the eyes in class that day were eyes that I’d have to, have to, have to remember.

You know there is sooo much of choice...gleeee!!!

>Umm vij'al (that what I grasp when he raps out his name), owing to his style quotient falls under the Club-Wear In Day Time category, his tribe generally hails from Mulund, Ghatkopar etc, somebody ought to tell them tight fit pants are sooo out the watchmen in college would know it....his pants are sooo tight you just wouldn’t miss the contours formed by the hair on his ass which unfortunately may/may not be garbed...guy going commando....NOT A TURN ON!!!!! Embroidery on shirts I will never accept but flowers on skin tight-pleat less-black- almost chiffon- pants ....WHOAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Talking about tight clothes nobody makes you realize: body fits are for body builders not for the big-fat build bodies, better than buzzer fofkar, see since anorexia’s out and fitness is in, buzzer feels “what the ‘chodh’, body nahi he to kya hua, personality to he, (ever notice how people confuse personality with physique…..this aint no tongue of slip!!!) and he adorns himself with his baby sisters t-shirts.
Well if there was dense fog, buzzer was wearing a helmet and a visually-impaired guy bumped into his tits...he'd think…this FAT guy is probably wearing his sisters t-shirt!!! But what beats those hazardous curves in front is the catastrophic gorges that lie behind…any body behind him dreads buzzer bhai fofkar having any sort of inclination, especially a forward one…coz, I shit you not when I say this, he’d rub Grand Canyon off all the maps in world…and replace it with The Great Indian Divide!!!!
If I had 500 bucks for every crack cleavage I saw in college I’d probably have like 5000 bucks and mind you those are only the hairy ones.

Another item bomb, is raag- me sir ko boldoongi. As legend has it her folks pay college fees and all, but she sits at home and probably cries over -kkasshiiisssshhhh, kkkkkkaaalllllaaaasssshhhhh but definitely not DOM I & DOM II. To know a little of what the innards of a college would be like she braved a visit. The sad thing is she came to college on the first day with a BRIEFCASE....I was rubbing my self thinking...wow....secretary porn- secretary porn-secretary porn!!!!! A startled turbanoid asked "yeh kya he??"....."Me doosro se baat nahi karti"....she coyly replied. yeah sorry for digressing but she wears stuff that'll render fabindia fab-less, she wears kurti's with chikan on the frontside- and- backside, I can so imagine him...oh god sorry....I can imagine HER shopping with her saheli's going "nahi bhaiya, dena ka daam boldo, nahi to me chali jaoongi".....while the kid with the hip mom shouts...."mummy dekho chakka...mummy dekho nah...waaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh.....moods condoms anyone!!!"....so in her high waist jeans she elegantly sits criss-cross legged with her life partner...queen pallo...move over queen latifa...we're going desi with queen pallo.....sniff sniff sniff....isn't that a greatest contrast of em all!!!

Monday mornings, pehle lecture ke baad its scores updates time….and it’s the three of us regulars who feature on this show…Virus, peteboy and me…now I’ve never had a Real jersey so I cant do it, but when Man U pulls of their classic 3 minute- 3 goals games or Henry gets red carded- the college paints itself in motley colours… so you have another style funda: jerseys, be it Man U, Real, Barca or may even be PSV I have seen almost all of them in college. Now most people I know really know their football, like this guy virus, I mean please hadd hoti he yaar….now this guy seriously knows too much, I mean screw stadium names and refree origins, this guy’d probably know the name of the dhobi who washes the coaches towels…Thats all good, what blows is when you see either a Sania tee (for heavens sake……she doesn’t look good!!!) or the college gardener sporting a Leeds jersey.

Back to the pory-isms, now there is this dombivili cha porgya zzz who one day wore a blouse to college, I mean seriously, did he think I was gonna see A FLOWER on a t-shirt and let it fly: hell mo-fo no!!! Upon my "advice" I assume he aptly returned his blouse to his sister (or should I just tell the truth…he gave it to his ‘fat only in the stomach’ sexetary I mean sexretary…). But in zzz’ defense peteboy also braved a pink shirt once, okay pink is the color of power and jazz but when you know someone who has have two pink shirts its time to button up your shirt!!!!

Now my favorite part, the cheaters in my college, the so called lecturers, the ASSt profs and the scarce profs, now as I know it only one of em wears formal shoes everyday to coll, but then he’s the one handing out all the drops (year offs, what ever you call it) so I guess its okay...I know one who is true to his legion and wears sneakers on shirts and formal trousers and the rest of them fit into the elite clan called the ‘Phatta Chappal Core’ god these chindi chors, if you’d pay as much attention to this crap as me you’d realize the origins of their shirts, you’d know that this shirt is his wedding shirt, this his daughter stitched up this morning, this one is a suite-dhaap, am I jobless or what!!!!! But seriously the way they dress is simply dismal. He he he I almost forgot, there is also the bali-tan chak (see in engg colleges you don’t have chicks you have a variant called chak) who wears stuff she stole from a nikah the previous morn but tries to conceal it under her burkha, she’d might as well “hide” it!!! By the way she’s the men don’t wax so why should I kinds!!

I’d love to continue being the devils advocatei, but phatta chappal parmood’s viva beckons, and after a super sexy dme 2 viva, you kinda feel the need of being more than “I have no idea sir!!!”

Bakwas

HEY! ITS 7th SEM,MISTER!!!

17th July 06 marked the beginning of not just any season of EPL, SPL, SERIE-A, LA-LIGA nor was it the television premiere of LOST (season 3), AMERICAN IDOL (season-god knows which one) or for that matter any cool movie on star movies/HBO (who knows, blackouts still knocking us out) . What actually began on Monday the 17th was SEASON-7 in fr.Angel penitentiary… how cool!!! Coz by the end of this season (tentative date 27/10/2006), we’ll actually be 7/8th of engineers!!! (Awooogaa!!).

But a season is never complete without its GRAND FINALE (generally a 1 or 2 hr episode on TV) and fr.AG (GAY) NEL’s specialty has always been its term ending PRELIMS. (ag-gaynelite may sound weird but Royal MECHIES (mechanical engineering students) would know it very well, I mean, c’mon 73 guys & only one babe in our class & looking at the babe’s build-quality, one always thinks whether to call her a babe or BABA. Hell! Even our top ranker goes by the name of DICK-SHEET…so u see where it is all coming from).

Now, PRELIMS are one hell of GRAND FINALE; let’s say penitentiary’s MAGNUM OPUS. The professors think that the students should be able to answer all the questions sprucely as they have been “taught” everything beforehand. Unfortunately for them (actually us), that ain’t case. Barring a pedantic few & worthless others, the main players of our class are not interested in attending these exams at all. The perennial question in our minds has always been, “after writing truck-loads of assignments & a million types of class tests during ‘PRACTICAL’ sessions, why the hell do we need PRELIMS for?”

And this has given birth to some really uber-cool characters in MECH-7. So to start with, there is guy called Mr.PPB who’ll always sit on the first bench (coz he is roll no.1) and end up writing some crap or the other and still clear the exam thanks to his good handwriting!!
Then there is this guy who goes by the name ANNA (not Kournikova you despots, anna…as in a typical south Indian guy) a.k.a “the jholer” who’ll bring not just chits but also formulae scribbled on his calculator & guess what…whatever he writes on them…everything comes in the exam…some charlatan he is!!

Next in line comes the terrific trio of Danny, Viru & Mr.Patil. These 3 are known to do a Houdini within an hour after exam starts. We wonder whether the tioka come just to collect the question paper & say ‘HELLO’ to the invigilator or to jot down some answers!!!
Moving on, there is another character called ‘ZZZZZZZZZZZ’ who’ll be seen showing his answers to ‘apachika’ but that dude ‘apachika’ never shows/tells anything to him. Silly boy ‘zzzzzzzz’ you are!! Plus, weird thing about ‘ZZZZZZZ’ is that he’ll sit for whole 3 hours and end up flunking while others sit for 1-2 hours(max) and end up…FLUNKING! (What a waste… no, not us but... that guy ‘zzzzzzz’).

Finally, let me write about us as well. Bilkulbakwas here will always turn up about 15 minutes late; keep on laughing like a mad man (traumatized i guess) for next 10 minutes after reading the questions; "psst" around asking for answers; scribble something on the answer sheet and after dozing for 10 odd minutes; hazard asking Mr. Strange for any 'valuable inputs'; get pissed off when Strange tells him to elaborate on 'dividing a raster into 9 parts'.... i mean what does he expect, by then he realizes his pet needs some pooja, he leaves the exam hall for a cup of chee and roadside snakes....(hail gujju!!)

As for me (peteboy), I’ll study something; won’t be able to reproduce anything and before the exam commences, annoy everyone around me by asking them everything. Besides that, my mates have always questioned my exam hall virginity: - my inability to cheat. I just can’t do it man! I try, the examiner scorns at me; I move my legs to squeeze in but only manages to bang it against the front bench just to wake up that professor who is about to doze off; I try to whisper; no one understands what I say. Tell me, how can I be a good engineer if I can’t cheat in the damn examination hall??? (Formulae & calculations who????).

That’s not all folks. Magnum opus n all is ok but piece-de-resistance of this Season 7 (and for previous seasons too) will always be the re-tests & the re-re-tests & the re-re-re-tests (sic). The above-mentioned players are there for these events too but at the end of every event, some drop off, one by one, until the Chosen One remains. No one knows how many of us would be Chosen Ones this season but esteemed personalities like Mr. “Aaaaaaaa-you-hush???”, “So-deep”, “Mamu” & co. have always been able to raise the bar (sem after sem) and even if you don’t respect their attitude, you have to salute their fortitude.

So, that is what you experience in this urbane educational institute of ours. Although it’s been a mundane thing for MECHIES, other departments spare their kids, as they do not find later half of the extravaganza germane enough. Hell! Maybe our department has lost its humane touch.

-peteboy

INTRODUCTION

Bakwas:-

Bang!!

A wise ass (my home boy Z) once told me that blogs are for depressed, low life fucks who have no friends…. so although we have a neat posse peteboy and me (bakwas) decided to have this blog… just for spoils man.

Umm peteboy and me are from this hole somewhere in Navi Mumbai, if you’d want to hazard a visit you could come by during conjugal hours and do us, in the ass of course that’s where we all take it...

Our add:
110, McBridge,
Ist Tier,
Angel (or is that Angle) State Penitentiary

What we are supposed to be is BE (Mechanical) students from the all so amazing, Centre One bearing VAAAAAASSSHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE thoo.

I’ve known peteboy since like the II nd semester (or was it third) basically I’ve not known him for ever, but as far as I can recall I remember chatting up about football in those Ka-shir infested drawing halls (ka-shir is a virus that causes 40 marks in engineering and machine drawing)…
Since then it was the two of us lukkhas (rif-rafs) who really balanced all the Dickshit and this dude who’d really give joe black (actually any black….i don’t mean to offend any African-American!!!) a run for their money, let alone brains. We were B1 buds man. We exhaustively and extensively utilized precious practical hours (why don’t they call it tutorials…when we hardly do any practical work) talking about how great our favorite clubs (Man Utd and Real Madrid respectively) are and who’d feature in our dream teams…. Freaking (I promised I’d eschew bad language!!) shit 20 years old and we pretend to be Sir Alex and ***** (see the thing is Real have had too many managers…. So I leave it to your imagination) and chalk up transfer plans….mind you, we made wholesome deals man…with the exchanges and the prices.... the works….don’t get judgmental and all, lets see you study at frcrit ( see we study at a place that even sounds like we’re being ripped off!!) and not go mental!! Anyway come IV year and we got bichdofied (thanks to me opting for industrial robotics)!!!
I forced peteboy into sending me his jokes every once in a while, but fun don’t come free now do they…he came up with this ass wipe deal of sharing a blog…TIT for tat huh bitch!!

Both of us like writing (I write horse shit) and peteboy keeps it simple, he writes regular crap…so we thought we’d let you low-lifes get a feel for how shitty we are…so here it goes!!




Peteboy:-

Well, whatever bakwas mentioned above is all true!! 2nd semester was when we were shifted in same class...the class of MECHANICAL engineers (khikhikhi)..i mean..engineers!!..us?? man.. that’s funny!!

But it was those amazing Nanaji’s machine drawing pracs where we plotted & drew our respective starting line-ups for our favorite clubs. And the story doesn’t end there…there were these amazing workshop practicals where football was discussed rather than the work-piece… & then there was our respective “DREAM-TEAM” and what not.

These days it’s all about movies… passing comments on chits while the professor is busy teaching right in front of us. (people who don’t know how to pass chits around can contact us for we do have some training programs for you already chalked up…50 bucks a chit-trick {or a cheap-trick}).

Anyways... ahh…the blog... that is what we are working on now…thinking of new ways to bore people/entertain people...i mean...how long will you perverts surf the net for porn?? I know u ass-clowns logged on to this blog thinking, “itsallaboutqualitycrap eh...must be some nude pics n all” I know…we…know…but... HELL NO!....

So…now we are set to consummate your brains (still thinking vulgar aren’t ya)... some wise-ass did quote this:

“When the slogging becomes clogging…its time to do some blogging”