The Legend of the Tooth Fairy

In a land not so farther
Lived a king named Louis Arthur
His palace was divine with horses and walls.
And all his ministers with unshaved balls.
And the king longed for a tooth-fairy
for his ass was oh soo hairy.
Every night when he used to sleep
He prayed to god, to protect from the creep
And used to break a tooth or two
For tooth-fairy he wished to do.
Then one day , out of the blue
Appeared a merchant in his court , with his naked crew
He said "my lord, my crew shall you screw"
And 4th day hence, the 2nd tooth that you shall threw
Will bring you the one you desire
Which shall put your balls on fire"
But the merchant was con , he had 7 felonies
He had been arrested for doing under-age Melonie
So the king ordered for the merchant to be bound to the walls
And asked his ministers to batter his balls
As the balls broke , one by one
Tooth fairy appeared , and she wanted to run
The king was strong - he punched her in the face
Broke her jaw, and she passed out in a gaze
He put her in his Cadillac, and stepped on the gas
And slowly and steadily, the hair began to disappear from his ass
4th day hence, the hair was gone,
The fairy looked like Cristiano Ron'
The merchant still bound to the walls
Wondering what they did to his balls
The ministers now were hair free too
And in the Cadillac was Arthur to do
the tooth fairy , and everything was fine
the king returned to the castle , and with his ministers he dined
After the meal divine , Arthur asked the tooth fairy to marry
She said no - shot dead - the ministers had to carry
Her body to the cemetery , painted her grave red
And thats how the legend of tooth fairy is now declared dead...

What leads to acts of terrorism ?

I met this girl recently ( and i really think she would like not to be named, atleast not on a e-place like this ) , and our conversation was something like this..

Me : ( rappin with a fist to my heart, and the other hand doing all rapper things )
"I got the rolly on my arm,
and am pouring chandon ,
and i roll the best weed,
coz i got it going on'..
am a nice dude..
with some nice dreams ....."


Girl : ( Nonchalantly)
"the money they pay to buy thier weed
finanaces the rdx that kills innocents
thus is planted the seed
which shall cause some repentence!!
"

Me :
Say i buy weed worth rs 20 from a peddlar named homie..
The peddlar hardly makes anything ..just able to make ends meet selling weed...
Now i stop smoking weed, ( and lets just assume that i am able to convince all my hungry niggas to go sober ) and our homie is out of job...
Its tough times in indian economy , becoz of the massive credit crunch and high repo rates,
many ppl are unable to payback car loans.. the banks are frisking away the cars,
and so our homie cant even find the one job he can do - driving!! ( the banks took away all the cars, remember?) !
Meanwhile the pundliks and the abhyankars and the patils are too busy fighting north indians ( if not each other ) and none of them want to hire a ex-peddlar..

Dejected and rejected he walks back home to find that theres no
food on the dinner table and his 3 kids arent home yet, sees his wife crying
silently, barely able to tell him that she is expecting another child....
She breaks the news to him , and the news breaks his balls !He smokes up all the weed hes got ..hes high now..and wanders aimlessly in the backlanes of Masjid Bandar and stumbles upon a deccan mujhaidden ( one of his esteemed clientle ) and finally convinces our poor old homie that the only reason i stopped buying weed from him , and the only reason the banks have raised repo rates and the only reason that nobody wants to hire him is that he is of a Minority Race ..
And the only way he can help his community is by blowing himself up ..
( Simple Maths doesnt apply here : Minority Race minus (-) One ( the guy who blows himself up) equals(=) Even more minority race.. But homie is a peddlar , not a rocket scientist, so he doesnt understand the intricacies )

The Deccan Charger asks him to deliver some parcel to some other guy and promise
to pay him 25 thousand for that and tell him that the parcel contains sweets for christmas that blow up if u dont eat them on the 25th december.

Our homie is a man of principles ( though a peddlar) and he would have never
even contemplated doing things like these..
B right now hes so hard stressed that the only thing that matters to him is putting out food on the table for his 3 kids and buying some medicines for his pregnant wife..
he takes up the job - its easy , pick up a parcel at borivali, and deliver it to a guy at the airport.
He catches a cab..speedbreaker..BOOM !!!!

Ville Parle was the last board he ever saw ..
Incompetent government is unable to trace the real terrorists and our homie is the fall guy..
Homie is declared terrorsit, and with that stigma, his preganat wife is driven out of her house..
shes now homeless,pregant and she has to feed 3 children.. hospitals deny her entry, neighbours refuse to help her..
a couple of months later the situation gets too complicated and her body cant take it anymore, she bleeds to death..
right on the spot where our Homie once used to sell some weed..

His 3 kids are picked up by LeT and 20 years later, they blow up Taj, Oberoi and Nariman House
respectively..over 200 are killed( amongst which include the sons and grandsons of those who denied our homie a job , the retired reserve bank governor who hiked up the repo rates to turn in a quick buck, also the ex-investigation officer who failed to nail down the main terrorists 25 years ago and instead picked on our Homie, some of the the Doctors who refused to give Mrs.Homie her medical rights and some of our Homies neighbours who ere working as the staff in the Taj ) , 800 wounded ( i am too bored to name them) ..
50,000 crores of estimated loss in property and revenue ( coz Mumbai remained closed for 3 days )
Union Home Minister resigns, State Deputy Chief has to resign, teh State CM offers to resign amongst all this political havoc ..and i can go on and on about the repurcussions..but i guess you get the point by now.( One major repurcussion i missed out on is that it gives me a reason to write a blog article )

If only somebody would have bought that pack of weed 20 years ago ...
Maybe 3 cups of tea and 4 pieces of bread would have changed history ...
Think about it .


Girl : ( leaves never to be seen again ) .....silence.....

Me : "Ahh ..well..maybe i should have never told her anything about weed"

Knowlede Management

Whoahaaaa Knowledgeeee Manageeemennnnnntttttttt!

Get your hands in the air, and shave your pubic hair
and ride maulik's bike, if u dont like riding the black mare

this is....Knowledge ,share it with your peers
And scratch your balls, while you are changing the gears

Of mauliks bike, coz if u dont, somebody else will
and then u will have to scratch the balls of KPS Gill

Knowledge is tacit, it is inside of the most knowledgeable's tomb
but u can still rape the dead bastard, and get the knowledge out of the Gandu's womb
Expert systems help you to make a choice,
they give you confidence , they strengthen your voice
They will help you to make a decision,
Strengthen your vision, and force the decision out of you,
just like the doctor forces out a cesarean.

In this journey of life, we all come across certain knowledge
From reading some books and certain other novels
we even get knowledge , from cleansing our own bowels
And sometimes, like the French, when using paper towels

All this knowledge in the world, is too much for one person to absorb
So i dont understand, What is the need to learn some more?
Do you need knowledge to fuck a girl , or a whore?
Do you need knowledge on why George bush won and not Al Gore?

The knowledge that we come across, is more than we can fathom
Sharing knowledge will make the other person strong , and u weaker
In the next team meeting, he will be eloquent and u will be meeker
You already committed this mistake, now your future looks bleaker
Think about your Biwi Bacha ! Dont you have any fikar?

So here, take my advice, Its free
Dont share your knowledge, atleast not with a selfish bastard like me
Coz this is war mate, this is elan-e-jung
And i will rip our balls out and lick my balls with your tongue
Because, make no mistake, I am not a friend
I am not from Alabama, Colorado or Gendren
I am a wily old fox from old Wrexham
A sick tired bastard waiting for Knowledge Management exam


And i dont know shit about the subject
Mittal taught me KM, He asked me to study all the 10 steps
He told me "Son, you must know'em"
Instead i am writing this nonsense poem,

Mr.Mittal, while correcting my papers,
dont be surprised,
coz u will come across the most famous rapers
Who raped Babies in Huggies Diapers
and ladies in saree drapers


So Mr.Mittal, heres my take,
You might have commited your life's biggest mistake.

DISCLAIMER : I have a split personality disorder , and hence the views stated here are not necessarily of the blow owner.

Love, Racism and Gand

Guys, am back..and this time with a more philosophical topic....Love,Racism and Gand.

Life never seizes to amaze us, just when we think we have seen the biggest pair of boobs ever to hang on a human body, we see another pair, that makes the earlier ones look like mosquito bites.

The above sentence has no relation to my earlier part, and has no relation to the story that i am going to tell u now, but i wrote it because i was thinking about boobs, like i always do :)

'What is love' 'Why are people racist?' 'What is the biological use of Gand?' are the question that have been raised throughout the history of mankind. Battles have been fought, men have killed, villages devastated, blood has been spilled, God has been questioned !! But nobody, nobody has been able to answer . Our forefathers tried and failed, couldnt answer, even after scratching their balls and rubbing their asses. So, they delegated authority and now we have the responsibility of finding out the Eternal Truth. So here we start our mission, to find out the

The origin of the word 'Love' actually comes from the word Lovda , which has its origins in Sanskrit, the language of the Gods.
Lovda , however, when translated in enlgish, means a Penis.
Is Penis love? You might think not, but before jumping to conclusions, lets analyze this assumption further, before we reject it as Null hypothesis.
Dont you love your penis? Dont you think the girls like the penis ? Doesnt 'making love' involve the use of penis ?
In history, wherever we see the word penis used, it has strong relations with penis.
Shakesphere said "Love thy neighbour' But if u remove the accent, we can see, he actually meant 'Lovda Neighbour' !!
Even the Famous Pop band said ' One Love '.
All the meant was, One Penis , is all every1 needs to be happy.
So, here we conclude, Love is Penis.
If you dont agree, i dont give a fuck.
If you have a problem with that, ITS YOUR PROBLEM !!!

Hinjewadi Chowk to Mithila 124 - Part II

Scroll Down for Part I

An Image of 'The Balls' from Part-I


And there i was, standing in the middle of the Rajiv Gandhi Infotech park, I could still smell some gooey shit which was sprinkled on me by the farmers. I could still see the fungus laid balls of the queers who were with me in the auto.
After seeing the auto disappear far into the horizon, I picked up my luggage and started my walk towards the i2it campus. Looking around, i noticed that the IT park was no different than any other crappy place on this earth.I stopped to buy some cigarettes and noticed some ugly creature walking towards me. I left the cigarettes behind and ran for my life. While running, i looked around and saw that this whole IT park was full of similar ugly creatures. Those were girls, and no ! not ordinary girls, Girls from Infotech Park, or 'The SEZ of Pune'. Special Economic Zone?? My Balls!! Y dont u spend some special economy on these creatures and make an effort to transform them into something humanly feminine?
I had awakened my penis because of constant jumping of my balls on him due to the running, but seeing the girls, he quickly went to sleep again. Pas' de Problem.
Talking about running, I dont see any fuckin point in the activity, except of course, Rolling Stones gather no moss, and i Run coz i dont want moss on my balls !
Anyways, i continued running and saw that there were two types of girls here,
one with unkempt hair, ugly face, dark skinned, pimpled, dark moustaches, heavy beards and no boobs were from organizations and the others were with unkempt hair, ugly face, dark skinned, pimpled, dark moustaches, heavy beards and GIGANTIC boobs were from Symbiosis college.
I was partly relieved that i2it had denied admission to such ugly creatures.

And finally there I was, standing on the gate of a deserted campus of i2it. The security guards were getting gay with each other and they were playing the game of ' Catch his balls, Blow a whistle and Put the whistle in his Ass' They asked me to join. I asked them to shave their balls.
I stole their whistle and ran into the campus, with the pack of naked security guards behind me.
I thought i should let this know to the warden, and hence ran straight for his office, they were still chasing me.

I ran into his office, "Sir, Name's Nikhil. New Admission. And You better take a look at the security Guards."

He told me "Welcome to I2it so, always be a good boy, dont ever play with guns"
Then he turned to the Security guards " How many times did i tell u not to play Catch-his-balls-Blow-a-whistle-and-put-the-whistle-in-his-Ass in the campus??"
Lets play "Catch-his-balls-Blow-a-whistle-and-put-the-bottle-in-his-Ass"
And all of them disappeared far into the campus, never to be seen again.

Anyways, i took my luggage and proceeded to the room that i was alloted. 'Mithila 124'
I opened the room and soon found out that the room was not double occupancy as the college had promised me, It was more like 1 million occupancy with people from different races living in harmony, there were cockroaches, rats, squirrels, mosquitoes, other insects, Siberian Tigers with unshaved balls and African elephants with shaved balls. Just like a happy family- showing balls !!!
The room was a total mess, though it was much better than it is now!

(....to be continued....)

A Place called I-Square-IT - Part I

Hey guys, Nagda Manus is back..
And this time, like always, i dont have much to write about..so i will just write about every second of my pathetic little life in this place called I-Square-IT.
Not a long time ago I , like millions of stupid assholes like me, had given CAT and all other hopeless exams that existed on this wretched planet called earth. I didn't get through any of the exams
and that was obvious considering the limited intellect that god showered upon me. I was depressed, so depressed that I applied for a course in the most fuckallest of all colleges called I-Square-IT.
The good thing about this was that there was hardly anyone else from India appearing for this course and this made my admission a bit easy. As i expected, there were about 19 people who were with me to write the exam for this course of MBA and not surprisingly, after 30 days of anxious waiting, I was selected, along with the 18 others.

Now, i had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The only place that could save me was I-Sqaure-IT, or so i thought !!!
I packed my bags - 2 rags and a stocking cap, and on the way, a stray dog bit me, so i bit him back. I broke his nose, now, his skull is a broken bone, theres no control, so i just let my emotions go....

The bus stopped at a god-forbidden place called Wakad Police Chowki, though it looked more like the Chauri-Chaura police chowki which was burnt during the second non-co-operation movement. So after getting down from the bus, I asked a few locals standing in torn and rotten dhoti with their balls hanging and popping out of all the possible holes in the dhoti , "How to go to IT park? ". They asked me to catch a six-seater.I asked them to shave their balls. After finishing the rest of the good-byes, i proceeded to a place where six-seaters were supposed to stop. As i was waiting for the six-seater i saw that the persons whom i thought were locals were actually employees of some of the 'esteemed' organizations in the IT park, and i realised that only after they scratched their balls and put on their employee ID cards.

"Honk Honk Honk Honk !!!! " Some son of a bitch was honking with his balls in a strange vehicle. It was a kind of weird vehicle with people popping out of all the windows and doors and with a Horn near the scrotum of the driver. After a couple of hours, i realized that , the son of a bitch was honking at me and fuck i dont know y !!! May be he was the son of the same bitch who had to face my wrath today morning ...may be not.. anyways.., i flexed my muscles and twitched my balls, and there was a sudden rush of testosterone in my body, so much that the hemoglobin in my blood was replaced by testosterone.

After some debate with that stupid asshole, i realized that he was waiting for me to get into the six seator. But it was a six-million seater and there was no way on earth that i was going to get into that homosexual mob of gays wearing the same dhotis. At the same time, i couldn't take the honking anymore and just got into that god-damned vehicle called the six-million seater.

Going at a great speed of 10 kms per hour, i wanted to distract my mind from the homosexual mob, so i just looked out of the windows and saw some scenic bio-gas plants. Here, people beilve that bio-gas is the best fertilizer and the best pesticide. No wonder all the farmers were shitting on the plants. Their kids were urinating on each other, while the rest of the family was puking on the farmers and the children, and the some others farting on the scarecrows. It was really scenic.

After a 2 km drive that took 2 hours, i finally landed in the rajiv Gandhi infotech park.

To be continued ......

Growing Frustration of IT Professionals in India.

India as they say , has become the Mecca of Information Technology. Personally, i dont give
a fuck.
India boasts of very good IT service companies who hire some illiterate morons and provide
some woeful service to another bunch of hopeless companies.
In fact, there was a case when there was an aircraft full of Indian Software Engineers and
the Flight Lieutenant announced,
"How many of you would still fly, if we said that the software used to fly this plane is
provided by the software company u work for?"
All of them , except one, got out of their seats and ran for the door like stupid
assholes(which they are).
But remarkably, one remained on his seat, and on being questioned he said "If you are using
the software provided by my company to fly this plane, i can bet my bottom dollar that this
fuckin plane aint going to take off!!"
Such is the plight of Indian Software Companies.
The definition for "Working Hours" has been cancelled from the Dictionary of these idiots.
They work and work some more and work late hours trying to impress their boss in hope of
being the next project manager.
Manager? These fools cant even manage themselves, forget about managing the project.
They all want to code in Java. Aye Bawa?Or else its the .NET technology.
Technology, here we come across another interesting and equally useless word.
We use the word just for the fuckin sake of using the word. All of the Gurus of technology
can be heard saying , technology saves so much time !!!
You can hear them saying, "Oh , the new .NET Technology saves so much time !!! "
Look asshole, hold on a sec.
Are you really saving any time?
Have you heard anyone saying "Oh, I saved 3 hours today by using the .NET technology , and i
am going to spend those 3 hours with my girl-friend today . "
Have u heard some1 say anything like that? Can any1 go home early ? Where are the hours
that u just saved?
I will tell you, u spend those 3 hours doing the same worthless piece of shit that u do all
day, that is coding and some similar IT stuff. Come on guys, get a life !! Your can read it
as 'CUM on, guys' too. But definitely not as "CUM , on guys"
Hehehe, see, now i got u smiling, When was the last time your boss had u smiling?
The Bosses or so called Project Managers are an equal waste of Flesh and Bones.
They dont know a fuck about what their company is about.
They come from some terrorist camps like IIMs or Some other dangerous camps, after being
totally brainwashed.
Their only aim is to harass all the employees in the organization, and create as much
turbulence as you can.
They are a major threat to the human society, and they should be thrown in Gas
Chambers, the only difference is that here, the gas would be natural. See, i am an
environmentalist, so i would never use anything artificial that would harm the nature. But i
would be glad to eat half a ton of Stale meat , and then i would explain what i mean by Gas
Chambers.
Anyways, coming back to the topic, "Growing Frustration of IT Professionals in India" , i
would rather say that they deserved to be frustrated ,simply because they have frustrated
the not-so-intelligent persons like me, by always beating them in Exams and Campus
Interviews.
And now , that we have touched upon the word, lets just add a few words on Campus
Interviews. In all B-Schools ( pronounced as
Chutyagiri) there is a concept called the 'Placement Week', when all companies are SUPPOSED
to come and RECRUIT ALL the candidates. I know a few people who love this, the bar-owners in
the vicinity of all such lucky colleges.
For them, its bigger than Diwali. Not required to say, but most of their business is due to
the dejected and rejected rather than the selected.
These so called campus interviewers are interested in knowing every fuckin detail
(literally) of the students, all their past whether they have throughout 60 percent in their
education and all such shit.
Now tell me, when u go out to see a girl, do u insist on seeing her pics when she was 16 and
when she was 18?
Do u want to know what was her weight back then? Will you fuck her only if she was at least
4'10 when she was 14?
The answer is NO ( except for some Campus Interviewers reading this)
You are absolutely not interested in her past. Then y do these campus interviewers fail to
understand simple fucking logic?
Lets just stop here, and let the Campus Interviews think for some time.
But dont worry, I will be back soon.

Keep Visiting,

Nikhil
B.Sc-IT
MBA-Advanced IT

My Friend Hardik Jansari

Oh my friend , my friend hardik jansari,
y do u always listen to song 'ari ari ari'?

are u afraid of the canteen food?
do u think it will alter ur mood?

don’t think it is a love potion,
it will only get u loose motion.

in the class, u are always so quiet,
but when u are with janhavi, u feel 'oh so right'

i know because i can understand u
i am ur frnd, but they dont understand u.

they say u only listen to songs which are hit
and u are nothing else but a useless piece of shit

u get up, wash urself, and go out with pride,
that’s when janhavi starts looking for a place to hide

don’t worry my frnd, u will get her someday,
and my sixth sense tells me it will be a monday!

and u know what my frnd?
today is monday, so go out with ur head held high,
in front of her , kneel down and let out a loud sigh,
and tell her how u feel, tell her 'oh janhavi, u are just my!!'

then the bells in her head will ring
maybe in the season of spring will u both sing.

or maybe she will feel a bit ticklish,
and say "hardik, please improve ur English!"

By

Nikhil Pundlik,
1984-2006*