tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858811770156073252024-03-14T09:47:24.873-07:003 Blind Mice Of IndostanWhen we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explainedShirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-53748575030493194112009-10-04T05:10:00.000-07:002009-10-04T05:41:26.616-07:003 months and a few......since we last updated this. And this includes the last 2 one line updates of Zorastrian gods and Madonnas that cannot die - which is tragic really. Clearly a sign of fewer things that we've been doing together and the stress of work getting to us, I would think.<br /><br />So to commemorate the hope of some return, I have taken it upon myself to update this. And I am sure that Sohna and Jerusha will feel compelled to carry on this legacy. Here's the bit where I get stuck though, I can't think of anything except our move to the new floor which unfortunately has been the most exciting thing in all our lives in the last few weeks. Of course, congratulations to Aunt Jerusha on the birth of her nephew whose pictures we haven't yet seen but I think I'll let her update us on that one. Welcome back from Sydney too :)<br /><br />So, our move to the third floor of which we don't have pictures (since it isn't really exciting) happened on the Friday last. Jerusha wasn't around but both Sohna and I are envious of where she sits now, two steps away from the smoking area and if she so much as stands up to look out the window, she'll see the beautiful waters of a nice shimmering blue pool calling out in many a seductive voice. <br /><br />Okay, I give up - this is rather pathetic. I would describe how the colours of the floor are bathed in blue and red but that just makes me want to keel over and die. Which wouldn't be the best thing. <br /><br />So, I sign this off in the hope that either Sohna or Jerusha updates this with something happier hopefully before this blog gets shuttled off into oblivion. :)Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-83565861619321189692009-07-02T08:28:00.000-07:002009-07-02T08:29:21.730-07:00Who was the God of the Zorastrians?Ahuja Ahab! swears Jerusha :)Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-12457249755297166102009-04-21T01:06:00.000-07:002009-04-21T01:08:29.851-07:00Who'll die first - the horse, or Madonna?Shirley says Madonna can't die. Ever.<br /><br />And she's not even a fan.Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-74500745509930028372009-03-02T04:15:00.000-08:002009-03-02T06:31:57.911-08:00In the real world<div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">In dreams we do so many things</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">We set aside the rules we know</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">And fly the world so high</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">In great and shining rings</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">If only we could always live in dreams</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">If only we could make of life</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">What, in dreams, it seems!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">But in the real world</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">We must say real goodbyes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">No matter if the love will live</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">It will never die</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">In the real world</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">There are things that we can't change</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">And endings come to us</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">In ways that we can't rearrange</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">When we're dreaming heart to heart</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">I wish that we had stayed right there</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">For when the dreamers do awake</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">The dreams do disappear</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">I love you, and you love me</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> But sometimes we must let it be</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> In the real world....</span><br /></span></div><br /><br />- Just cos' I'm bored and this song makes me cry.Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-67723316969769920592009-02-21T07:00:00.000-08:002009-02-21T07:18:11.425-08:00Continuing from KeralaStill humid, only this time its a different internet cafe - and nothing going by the name of Double Click :) I can't believe how far we've come and all the incredible things we've managed to get done. <br /><br />We left the quaintest little village this morning, a beautiful cottage on the banks of the river Pampa with houseboats shuttling up and down it and surrounded by the lushest (is that a word?) paddy fields. We watched the prettiest sunsets across a sea of green and watched the night sky with a million stars in it - pointing out familiar constellations and calling them by different names. But the feeling can't be desribed especially when all the lights in the village go out and you're running out to the waterside to get a better glimpse of the stars and then imagine that you've stepped on a snake in the darkness. Haha I've never seen anyone jump the way Jerusha did that night. But to be fair to her, we did see the most hideous looking snakes floating around in the water and then leaping on to river banks all scaly and glistening in the sun with the water reflecting off their backs. <br /><br />We're carrying on with our travels much as I hate to leave Alleppey and that village behind, I'm looking forward to making it into Silent Valley tomorrow morning. For now, we're both in a tiny town in Palakad hoping to find a fairly decent place to stay for the night. We've decided to start a travelogue when we make it back to Hyderabad. So much has happened in the last week that I'm almost afraid of returning to life and routine but its home and what makes things what they are I suppose. Until back at work in Hyd then I guess, ta ta and wish us luck! :)Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-70500115493376446762009-02-18T06:58:00.000-08:002009-02-18T07:07:31.774-08:00I just have to do thisHonestly, I'm not one for blogging - don't ask why, it just takes me too much to think of what from a life so boring would be good enough to go on and cast some glee on some despairing soul. <br /><br />Nevertheless, here I am sitting in Kerala, Kannur to be precise - a tiny tiny internet cafe called Double Click I think :D Jerusha is sitting next to me typing away - blogging I bet and we're both waiting for a bus to take us to Ernakulam. I have no idea why we chose to go there - we just did. We got out of our hotel, picked up our bags, took an auto to the bus stop and said 'ahem, is there a bus going to Silent Valley or Kottayam (which we figured was the closest place to a dreamy spot - Kumarakom) but no, a stolid shake of negative head. "Go to Ernakulam" said he, for that was apparently the only bus leaving. So yeah, thats where we're going and from there to Cochin and then Kumarakom and then Thekkady. Or so we think - I have no idea what the plan is going to be tomorrow or where we might end up going. But I love it!!<br /><br />I need to leave now - for the boy in the store just came by meekly saying that the store is to close now. And its only 8:30 pm in this little town...But God, its just the most beautiful feeling in the world. And I had to do my best to express it!Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-28817250300663984512009-02-05T04:15:00.000-08:002009-02-05T04:49:14.701-08:00The Case of the Running RamThe ram that ran was quite a puzzle. Nobody could tell why it was running only that it was running. There is also the fact that no one could tell that it was in actual fact a ram. Anyways, there was this one wise soul amidst us all who knew in essence what it was about. <br /><br />Here's what I saw and I feel compelled to leave a legacy of its record or fear the punishment of the gods who've given me the gift of its sight. <br /><br />We were in an auto, cruising down the roads of Banjara Hills. Six of us in a vehicle that would ideally accommodate four in a rather snug fashion. Us girls, Orpi, Neysa, Jerusha and I were sitting in the back with two strikingly not so handsome men controlling the wheel (the rudder? handle? whats that called?) Anyways, we were cruising along, everyone looking gorgeous and glamorous, with the wind in our hair ready for a beautiful Saturday night. It was at this time of perfect contentment that Jerusha let out what appeared to be something between a squeal and a yelp - one of excitement and also disbelief. <br /><br />"Oh My God!!" "Isn't that the fattest dog you've ever seen! Look at it - so cute and healthy and beautiful." Us girls being what we are managed to push ourselves over to careen out as far as we could (without tipping the auto over) in a bid to espy to reverend creature. It had an owner attached to it who was running as fast as this creature was - barely making it, I think. "Oh how cute!" "Oh My God" "Wow", said I, "It almost looks like a ram" <br /><br />Neysa, not one I think for dogs, piped up with "what's going on?" "a dog, replied I "that almost looks like a ram" "Well what is it?" Another glance and it didn't take much time for revelation to dawn. "Its a ram a ram!" Haha that's probably the funniest thing I've seen in ages and I cannot stop laughing, neither of us can. Jerusha most of all. She who swore upon her very soul that what she witnessed was the healthy able body of an enormously fat dog running with horns on its head, a black sheen in its body, did I mention horns on its head? Not sure what it was after but Jerusha I know for one, could not understand the whole idea of the contraption of horns located on top of a dog's head. It's quite the thought really - why a dog would have horns. <br /><br />Haha, as you can see, it's hard and maybe you, whoever reads this, ought to have been there to understand the significance of this hilarious moment. But god, it was funny. I for one know that our rickshaw drivers giggled, guffawed and thought about ways in which the Indian culture has died, that the way of the girl is no longer the way of the girl and went back to their families and thanked the Lord for their homely wives and well behaved children and prayed for that to last forever. <br /><br />But I had the most amazing time that night and love these girls and am so glad we get to do all these fun things that we can think about as time goes by and just be happy for these moments. Love them :)Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-19985194195100235312008-12-29T20:46:00.000-08:002008-12-30T04:02:41.542-08:00Waiting With Open ArmsHappens every Christmas, I am left bereft, dying with nothing but the compassion of ambiguous campaigns left to compose me. Not so bad really, save the fact that everyone's gone on holidays - eating, drinking, making merry whilst I still recover from a mere 4 days spent in the presence of food and television and rest and glorious sleep.<br /><br />I miss my glorious sleep but notice the boredom which has caused me to blog at 12:30 in the afternoon on a working day. Jeru, pay heed and rejoice for I have kept this page alive in the absence of you and Sohna, who living it up in comforting winters and beautiful countrysides with high mountains and pretty flowers are bound to return. Ha ha a week more and yes, back to the drudgery from whence you went :D Ah, feel so good.<br /><br />Happy New Year you guys. Can't wait to have you back!Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-37408267113308608682008-11-21T02:38:00.000-08:002008-11-21T02:40:28.141-08:00Jerusha & Sohna's Myriad Vocabulary<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cshirleyg%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal">It's always fun being around them, yes them whose speech has powers to dazzle the bards of yore, the linguists of long standing tradition, the etymologists of years past. I am amazed what everyday brings to me, things that bring a smile to my face, a giggle, a laugh, a hysterical choke...So, yes, I am very thankful to them and would love to hear what Freud might have to say about these many utterances that can come forth with much ease.
<br /><b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><u>
<br /></u></b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Creation number 1</span>: <b>Bemkserable</b> As used in the phrase <b>'kid will bemkserable"</b> <b>(copyright - Sohna)</b>
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<br />I came upon this in much delight yesterday, when Jerusha IMed with "what do you think this could mean?" Cluelessness caught me dumbfounded, and in quest of the truth I meekly ventured to ask the very creator herself. First besought by quietness, followed by an 'lol' (perhaps one of mockery) - I was offered the following explanation:
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<br />"It means the misery you get when your name is miserable"
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<br />Ah, the dawn of wisdom. In happiness and having gained the power that is knowledge, I walked away knowing that all was indeed right with the world
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"> Creation number 2</span>: <b>Peasant</b> As used in the phrase <b>"Roasted peasants are the best meat"</b> <b style="">(Copyright - Jerusha)<span style="">
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<br />I cannot take away from that classic statement in the form of any explanation. But presumption leads me to assume that she was referring to a certain kind of bird, poultry or fowl that is much enjoyed upon consumption.
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Creation number 3</span>: <b>Custard bum</b> As used in the phrase <b>"Aromas has the best custard bum ever" (Copyright - Sohna)</b>
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<br />It is true, Aroma's of <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region>, our favourite restaurant in town, does have the best custard bum desserts in the city :P
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"> Creation number 4</span>: <b>Covetion</b>. As being the <b>noun form of "covet." (Copyright - Jerusha)</b>. For example, "Covetion of thy neighbour's wife is an evil evil sin."
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"> Creation number 5</span>:<b> Shit</b>...As used in the phrase <b>"Shilpa and the others will shit on the meeting with us"</b>
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<br />I know I know the word is not new to us...we hear it everyday, use it in many forms but I thought that this was one of the best examples of its use that I've known. Especially when using it in professional conversation with a counterpart from across the oceans. The response from this professional? A titter, a giggle (muffled, yes) for you see how the borders of professionalism cannot mock a phrase so deep.
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<br />But dear God, I've been unable to stop. And this has come out of just two days of meeting occassionally over breaks. So, with much gratefulness, I sign off this post with special thanks to two beautiful friends. I promise, I'll add heaps more from over the next few days. :)</p> Shirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-41860315376381712612008-09-19T02:14:00.000-07:002008-09-19T02:21:48.952-07:00Hotness!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJvV7nudZKOgQ-BPXsJiNKHWbYedIw1LDUAj3VYBz6s3lKCO4ste0e4lJdjLoFgmkoNH81uIcVMkQ204mKFQU2meLeJtdTAg49wXdNvwSGU6sagGEIGhChpJO0fen0Gx910xOw7do3GM71/s1600-h/AP_Georgiansoldiers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJvV7nudZKOgQ-BPXsJiNKHWbYedIw1LDUAj3VYBz6s3lKCO4ste0e4lJdjLoFgmkoNH81uIcVMkQ204mKFQU2meLeJtdTAg49wXdNvwSGU6sagGEIGhChpJO0fen0Gx910xOw7do3GM71/s400/AP_Georgiansoldiers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247658590977319442" /></a><br />Georgian soldiers<br />I want the one in the sexy shades!Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-86516326348519322912008-09-08T22:09:00.001-07:002008-09-08T22:24:53.079-07:00The Shirley WayWelcome to Harsha!<br /><br />Harsha's joined us on a couple of night outs and I've never been prouder. Not that I've always seen her in action but from what I've heard, she's going The Shirley Way.<br /><br />You may wonder what The Shirley Way is... That is when you forget where you are, you tell your Mom you're not drunk and hope that she doesn't want to talk and you wake up in a house having no recollection how you got there.<br /><br />Harsha has shown great promise in this direction. Pretty soon, she's going to be giving her Mom my number and making sure I don't answer calls from that number. For some reason I cannot fathom, Shirley's given me her Mom's, Bro's, and Dad's numbers. She's also written 'ignore' next to each of them. The few times I've answered those calls, they've hung up convinced I'm an evil influence on their daughter.<br /><br />Harsha has also discovered a new found love for white wine. But, like all AU returned piping shrikers after Jeru, she's become a snob. No Indian wine for her... it has to be Australian. :) I cannot quite remember what The Shirley Way says on the topic of wine but I'm sure it must be on similar lines.<br /><br />The Shirley Way also advocates having only Davidoff cigarettes. Unavailability of this means trying out 10-15 different varieties until you drive the cigarette seller insane. Harsha has, sadly, not yet learned this art.<br /><br />Harsha has a long way to go before she's mastered The Shirley Way. But, with Shirley right by her side encouraging her, she's bound to go far. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517372271264047973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-5307615963385198082008-08-28T01:17:00.000-07:002008-08-28T01:58:44.600-07:00New template, and hello too!So we got a new template, and redid the entire page! We think it's cute, but even it was not, it's different, and we were stuck with the old one for way too long. But what can we say, we're lazy. When we can't even make decent posts regularly, hunting for and implementing a new template is out of the question.<br /><br />But here it is. It is done. Hoorah!<br /><br />And a new template calls for a way overdue new post. It's actually Sohna's turn, but because all she can hear these days are little tinkling bells, no matter how much one reminds her, no matter how often she says yes, it's just not going to happen.<br /><br />So as the admin mice, I will take it upon myself the task of posting a new...post. Hmmm..you know what, I can't think of anything. So let's just do pictures this time. I'm gonna go look in my folders and pick 4 random favorite pictures out.<br /><br />#1 - Look what I shot! Who are these two lovers frolicking by the sea..you may ask. And while I can safely reveal the identity of the handsome Brazilian man, I will not because it is of no importance. And yes, the other one is a mice, a rare moment, a mice being friendly with a cunning but stoned cat :-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoK_RrO1vQYOeHoGNiCmYTYCo2UqPzuZatwHqma7ICXqdANxdBdoM9C91q8BDcMfwtwKfArpiXtHiN_w6Zw3IDW1gNMzbY-7-8O_hvuaZYcCQzlsh7rPm_UrQvFH4BwuhUK7HOGHGqLf9k/s1600-h/Picture+066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoK_RrO1vQYOeHoGNiCmYTYCo2UqPzuZatwHqma7ICXqdANxdBdoM9C91q8BDcMfwtwKfArpiXtHiN_w6Zw3IDW1gNMzbY-7-8O_hvuaZYcCQzlsh7rPm_UrQvFH4BwuhUK7HOGHGqLf9k/s400/Picture+066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239481840283422210" border="0" /></a>#2 - <span style="font-style: italic;">***sigh*** </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> "Nought warm where your hand was....</span>"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGCrB9U6lUAxO-Zmp2xIOaOFGkB4h3iskTFFrWwz4kf8lRGP7D22SV1P0eT34G4UlIKTi_Y7EIBd5wHlSZHoZQKOZlPsy5oYkK9eifnVOLmGO9mSj1RVAz939KvlBGQq64HB1Rqpd0T92/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGCrB9U6lUAxO-Zmp2xIOaOFGkB4h3iskTFFrWwz4kf8lRGP7D22SV1P0eT34G4UlIKTi_Y7EIBd5wHlSZHoZQKOZlPsy5oYkK9eifnVOLmGO9mSj1RVAz939KvlBGQq64HB1Rqpd0T92/s400/Picture+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239481398000107378" border="0" /></a>#3 - Lucky, and this picture earns a place here because he's so beautiful.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_r8YtfLbYlNYTzmBLKlX9ZfCAHBkg8pOq2LaSNuygXdCb3reH6if7xABl5S5LCXUwyalUBNOVHkVeKe6hGMcopURV8szdY9myrJeFVqEE1_DQG9wpRJ0K1-CB56Iq0Jvqjn1P87Jof1hW/s1600-h/Picture+065.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_r8YtfLbYlNYTzmBLKlX9ZfCAHBkg8pOq2LaSNuygXdCb3reH6if7xABl5S5LCXUwyalUBNOVHkVeKe6hGMcopURV8szdY9myrJeFVqEE1_DQG9wpRJ0K1-CB56Iq0Jvqjn1P87Jof1hW/s400/Picture+065.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239480875125557842" border="0" /></a>#4 - I like the smiles around the table :-)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJOevOHb8zK4gZ25HHvdHx8WWPfzV1jLLCbvsB7lihrIEGvb8RlaQv8lB_4SFg2sTx1CLtqOwzuQzW-JpNj6SXGiz3tk2JVmLxZFN31SQr18EaIhNZK-7FSMLJ_9RRB8sBQrqEdvTFtwY/s1600-h/Picture+042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJOevOHb8zK4gZ25HHvdHx8WWPfzV1jLLCbvsB7lihrIEGvb8RlaQv8lB_4SFg2sTx1CLtqOwzuQzW-JpNj6SXGiz3tk2JVmLxZFN31SQr18EaIhNZK-7FSMLJ_9RRB8sBQrqEdvTFtwY/s400/Picture+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239480593391728738" border="0" /></a><br />Okay, that's all. If either Sohna or Shirley still don't update after this, this blog is as good as dead, new template and all. Gone with the wind.Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-57831290564089371222008-06-03T04:39:00.000-07:002008-11-15T00:24:29.092-08:00Fare thee well, dear childShirley off to the land of no salt and pepper. While her poor Indian palate may suffer so, and we feel the deepest sympathies, we here will greatly suffer from her absence so! Aye, much more than her palate will suffer.<br /><br />She's young, like a young hart. And we fear the First World ways may befuddle her so, may wrought her maiden heart with worries so, may cause the skin of her forehead to wrinkle, may cause her hands to tremble and render them useless altogether!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmPJoB8N-g71dUuQJZqik-nFD-VfvPwFkoxwPa7MZX0MOj-t4jnH7VIqnBHC9P82n9mlsoJAVc3mT5q5dgWbBDa5r0GWKVjDGdyUpnRZ9gdsK0aZtYOKK1mjdq2SK9RXob8vSJgz09Cf2/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmPJoB8N-g71dUuQJZqik-nFD-VfvPwFkoxwPa7MZX0MOj-t4jnH7VIqnBHC9P82n9mlsoJAVc3mT5q5dgWbBDa5r0GWKVjDGdyUpnRZ9gdsK0aZtYOKK1mjdq2SK9RXob8vSJgz09Cf2/s400/Picture+028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207618795887028818" border="0" /></a>So here's a little prayer for you, Shirley -<br /><br />I pray You'll be her eyes, and watch her where she goes<br />And help her to be wise, in times when she doesn't know<br />Let this be her prayer, as she goes her way<br />Lead her to a place, guide her with Your grace<br />To a place where she'll be safe.<br /><br />Well, that sounds like she's dead. But no, she's very alive. Probably 'alively-sinning' somewhere on the shores of Bangkok right now. All we'll say from here is don't overdose, we'd like to have you back breathing :-)<br /><br />Enjoy yourself Shirley! Do not forget to soak in the jacuzzi with a cold bottle of Moscato. Every night. :-)Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-39001318114917521732008-03-13T02:05:00.000-07:002008-03-13T05:46:11.383-07:00Here's To You SohnaBroad smiles, silly grins, broader smiles, a little blush, a turn of bright red and tons of concealer. The very description of Sohna when meeting Prince Charming at 10 D. You think I exaggerate? Well hmm, no not really :P Actually - here's what happened:<br /><br />We were discussing OKRs (it's true, we are insane) at a nice comfortable booth and bitching about work when he texts her. She texts back. Smile. Tries to go back to talk of work. Fails miserably. He replies to her text. She texts back. She complains of poor network. He walks in. (Choir of angels go off in her head)<br /><br />Ha ha ok - so I do exaggerate a tad. But this is what I saw. He excuses himself to the men's restroom and which time she boldly summarises all the points we had listed on our little tissue paper. I'm sure she was reading it but I'm not so sure that she was "reading" it LOL.<br /><br />Big smile throughout our time there with occasional trips to the bathroom and questions of "Well....?" and "What do you think....?" and "Well.....?"<br /><br />I will admit though, it was a fun night. I flopped myself right bang in the middle of their date very shamelessly and ended up with a glorious hangover the next morning. But as this post goes to show - No regrets! :DShirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-42562799533981697212008-02-26T21:53:00.000-08:002008-02-26T22:35:47.914-08:00Of SnobsJeru's finally back...<br /><br />Ok, she's been back for ages but I've been too lazy to update before this. :D<br /><br />She's back and she's become a snob. :D For someone who drank copious amount of beer before leaving, she now refuses to touch the stuff. Wine's the drink for her. Um, well also for all of us....But, we blame her completely for corrupting us!<br /><br />And we were having a frankie...A lovely chicken roll wrapped in a roti. Ozzie land had her so caught up in exotic food that she called roti 'bread.' Bread!!! Terrible...<br /><br />And the final straw, she'll only get on the humble flyover in Begumpet if it has the fabled Chinese Restaurant at the end of the Bridge.<br /><br />The snobbishness is spreading though. Shirley thinks FP is too 'common' now and will only sip 10D and Dublin's finest choice of alcohol. Apparently, I'm a snob cos I won't go out with guys who sms 'gud' and 'muaah.' (Though, I think i'm justified there!!)<br /><br />Well, the wine's good at the Sheraton and there are no guys who say 'Muah.' Being a snob does have its perks. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517372271264047973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-28084282074032315012008-01-18T03:06:00.000-08:002008-11-15T00:24:29.420-08:00The night Sohna cooked...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-kd3BfXkzKRCyEJRY3nnCoyuLWYWeutUzs6D9bLc8g1Q2ryY6jUVWxWU0Bcx4ilNSGxVI2iUGWMSASGLZ4EWpjvgdOq41HMEmZXtkG9Rmcrm1Nsbu0fHlfLGtI2C8VncV-Wb0bkwkhdl/s1600-h/PC210406.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-kd3BfXkzKRCyEJRY3nnCoyuLWYWeutUzs6D9bLc8g1Q2ryY6jUVWxWU0Bcx4ilNSGxVI2iUGWMSASGLZ4EWpjvgdOq41HMEmZXtkG9Rmcrm1Nsbu0fHlfLGtI2C8VncV-Wb0bkwkhdl/s400/PC210406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156771434746793362" /></a> No wonder the Vindaloo ended up in the trash bin and poor Pete had to be sent off without a last taste of his favorite Indian dish off to the land of no-Vindaloos.Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-81296090281511828652007-12-28T01:32:00.001-08:002007-12-28T04:22:20.976-08:00BooooreedYes, it has been established, made know unto all who will listen, I am bored! And my brutal friends do not help ease the boredom.<br /><br />I have a packet of sugar stolen surreptitiously from Barista and my mind has drawn a blank. I've also discovered that when I put anything down in writing, I switch to writing in a very formal register or in English from the seventeenth century...this, the dear Sohna, is helping me overcome. Thanks be unto you, sweet maiden.<br /><br />So, everyone's gone away....vanquished from these dear lands. Jerusha (we miss you :) ) is living it up in Mizoram and the guys have gone 'Down under' for Christmas. Oooh, behold, a standstill!<br /><br />Ok...there be no point to this blog! But helllppShirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-65355138934563833812007-12-06T05:30:00.001-08:002007-12-06T06:47:28.508-08:00The Woes & Agonies Of Apostle Gan.Ahem, before I be slaughtered by my noble compatriots and more importantly, before I forget everything from the last few nights, I feel that I must record every blurry moment that I have been subject to over the past couple of days.<br /><br />And, no no this is not another post about any drunken encounters. Rather, this be about those things that may cause the faint of heart to tremble :) LOL, so as promised to the guys, I figure, that our courageous Apostle must feature in our blog. Here's to you, Pete, for enriching our lives thus on an every day basis.<br /><br />The following tale is true and bears no likeness to any other you may have heard before:<br /><br />So our brave and courageous Knight is strolling along and playing the very role of Chivalry. Escorting two beautiful women in the dead of night to their house on the streets of Venkatgiri, he spots a creature in the distance, hurtling steadily towards him. This famed creature, is Goofy (a friendly neighborhood dog, much loved and bearing tremendous respect for the girls).<br /><br />Smriti, our fair and faint hearted damsel, lets out a brief cry of happiness, upon seeing the lovable creature. This, however, was followed by a blood curling, death initiating yelp from our brave soldier. The stillness of the night, I am afraid, was thus shattered and the fear that might have registered upon the face of all those present causes me to break out into a fit of giggles just writing this down.<br /><br />There was even a moment, I would believe, when he may have taken swift flight, leaving our innocent maidens to the dangers that befell them. Ha ha, or perhaps he was merely arming himself with screams that may have caused all mortal elements to be sore amazed.<br /><br />My tale is now concluded. I must be off before this treacherous smile, breaking out around the corners of my mouth, causes those around me to question my innocence. :PShirleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18388109510103233434noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-15552929045444590672007-11-20T20:40:00.000-08:002007-11-20T21:12:45.195-08:00Levels Of Drunkenness :DI just realised we've got our lil things we do when we're drunk. And, you can figure out our level of drunkenness from it...<br /><br />Jerusha:<br />Voice a lil high pitched: Tipsy<br />Falling out of cabs: Higher level of 'tipsiness'<br />Taking her bra off & stuffing it in people's bags: Drunk.<br />Singing, doing the ballet and jumping over gates: Fucked<br />Coming to work to do peer reviews: Lunacy<br /><br />Sohna:<br />Talking a ridiculous amount: Tipsy<br />Dancing on empty dance floors: Higher level of 'tipsiness'<br />Kissing people and cribbing like hell about home: Drunk<br />Falling over, boldly marching towards stalking cars, confessions of imaginary love: Fucked<br />Climbing down a waterfall: Idiocy<br /><br />Shirley:<br />Giggling a lot: Tipsy<br />Insisting that she's not high and having 3 shots in one go: Incredible level of 'tipsiness'<br />Dancing with a beatific smile plastered on her face: Drunk<br />Dragging people to the dance floor, stripping, showing off diamond point a million times: Fucked<br />Forgetting everything the next day & promising never to drink again: Unreal :P<br /><br />Well, I know I'm forgetting tons more... but I've might have been too drunk to remember. :P Will have to corner the guys with us to figure the rest out. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517372271264047973noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-44937482657036236782007-11-12T18:21:00.000-08:002008-11-15T00:24:30.748-08:00Song for Shirley<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">We already have 'Two Pina Coladas' for Sohna, this time it's a song for Shirley - Joe Nichols' 'Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off' :-)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I know I'm not one to point 'songs' - all the crazy things mentioned in this song happens to the best of us. Losing earrings, frantic 'Hey, my bra in your bag by any chance?' text messages the next day, or 'Hey, is that my bra I just saw in your bag?!" 5 days later, divine revelations of love and crushes (which are apparently non-existent in sober hearts), the works...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But in light of your recent North-east trip and too-much-Tequila-shots incident, I believe it won't be wrong for me to happily assign this one to Shirley.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">She said, "I'm goin out with my girlfriends..Margaritas at the Holiday Inn." </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">"Lord have mercy," my only thought was, "tequila makes her clothes fall off."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">I know what happens when she drinks...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> She'll start by kicking outta her shoes...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Lose an earring in her drink...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Leave her jacket in the bathroom stall...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Drop a contact down the sink...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">She can handle any Champagne brunch, a bridal shower with Bacardi punch, jello shooters full of Smirnoff, but tequila makes her clothes fall off.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">She don't mean nothing, she's just having fun</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Tomorrow she'll say, "Oh what have I done?" </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Her friends will joke about the stuff she lost,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Yeah, tequila makes her clothes fall off...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">Yeah, tequila makes her squirm out of her jeans </span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">:O)<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Oh, I also absolutely love your Shillong pictures, so much so that I've decided to put up some of them here, with a running commentary :-)</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" >1.</span> </span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwZf6HzWORyYah7KrXe3r9q1DfiL7CeFv5Xqzkhr2naz1_q66m09u3sjqPkItTSuYVpDHgykgikflzlFGUoxIs4xRwEKbscD_wmWRYNgyMWpCxCc4cko9VHbpM6GutOTauuPZMcT8KbU-/s1600-h/DSC02540.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwZf6HzWORyYah7KrXe3r9q1DfiL7CeFv5Xqzkhr2naz1_q66m09u3sjqPkItTSuYVpDHgykgikflzlFGUoxIs4xRwEKbscD_wmWRYNgyMWpCxCc4cko9VHbpM6GutOTauuPZMcT8KbU-/s400/DSC02540.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132160802892292114" border="0" /></a>A naughty nippleeeee! Yayyyyyy! :D<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">2.</span> </span> This one's really good - the very picture of innocence...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz29OxpRLrV1_cECdXlk-AZFPDDF_AbVAinOueNXMl0h6fE7Hxd3rtdS3AZMSloxegsWShfyphDnBrsvViqpXn626jUHyOJi8nZICMBtPMSJJwX0iS0uxXykcFOlbBi1sj9x56bNgxXhgR/s1600-h/DSC02550.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz29OxpRLrV1_cECdXlk-AZFPDDF_AbVAinOueNXMl0h6fE7Hxd3rtdS3AZMSloxegsWShfyphDnBrsvViqpXn626jUHyOJi8nZICMBtPMSJJwX0iS0uxXykcFOlbBi1sj9x56bNgxXhgR/s400/DSC02550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132161305403465762" border="0" /></a>Just shows how misleading and off the mark visual images can be. Depressing.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >3. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2diPN5S3mGGmIX1A0VLc9bCpsRN4eCaMdDMyreoFjIr2pH4SHBbGPtZ6KTcwYjSNuilawzB5oKFKMkDfkuR06ZTt1wgFLAyl52gxKwzxKenr3v_KWm1yq54xDGSkYLnQk0s24pXa1A6A-/s1600-h/shirley.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2diPN5S3mGGmIX1A0VLc9bCpsRN4eCaMdDMyreoFjIr2pH4SHBbGPtZ6KTcwYjSNuilawzB5oKFKMkDfkuR06ZTt1wgFLAyl52gxKwzxKenr3v_KWm1yq54xDGSkYLnQk0s24pXa1A6A-/s400/shirley.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132161898108952626" border="0" /></a>S-S-s-s-sssmokin'!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >4.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyuRizI9q9_WY7MeP-HABttFOSwJaBHiZAXkEMCqaimz04zbgNHd3aoLnpN7qDRaUv_rBWc49WjShun35WroMsgrlryFH9oT2RffYgrEGvoDlB55qZ2VJnoywCefZjBqc1g7rYmdEV7DTH/s1600-h/Pee.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyuRizI9q9_WY7MeP-HABttFOSwJaBHiZAXkEMCqaimz04zbgNHd3aoLnpN7qDRaUv_rBWc49WjShun35WroMsgrlryFH9oT2RffYgrEGvoDlB55qZ2VJnoywCefZjBqc1g7rYmdEV7DTH/s400/Pee.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132162228821434434" border="0" /></a>Mountain pee. Too much beer I'll bet.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >5.</span> You guys doing Movember there too? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UfSgD1P-y5qJuqMYczAek2336LfQGYtj5s7X-bQc1tRI5xwv6qww1zz3qBoOd1xw0KZYGWQZFXtnSEVTBVFTKnED_08tlxH2XNra5FfALa6xXhCWPFxvdEJj4CGzyWusYturEzwjRWe4/s1600-h/Mo.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UfSgD1P-y5qJuqMYczAek2336LfQGYtj5s7X-bQc1tRI5xwv6qww1zz3qBoOd1xw0KZYGWQZFXtnSEVTBVFTKnED_08tlxH2XNra5FfALa6xXhCWPFxvdEJj4CGzyWusYturEzwjRWe4/s400/Mo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132162963260842066" border="0" /></a>Anyway, nice pic. Otzen looks all hot & sexy, Sohna sizzling with the red hair and red shirt :-)<br /><br />I'd like to post some more, but I just saw something that needs to be pursued, so later!Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-37054922030513080192007-11-05T18:22:00.001-08:002008-11-15T00:24:31.120-08:00Why Zebras are foodFor animals higher up in the food chain that is.<br /><br />It's not just about being a meek herbivore, or a ferocious carnivore. Apatosaurs were also herbivores, and they were meek and gentle. But they still walked tall and mighty. Just being a herbivore is no excuse to be on every carnivore's dinner plate.<br /><br />But the zebras, look at them. Utter stupidity.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjAmqoE4Vl9uudw8K62ZFqGE5E69Jpp4mbiMTrp3BHU0QNIKbHxTYe7re73juingLB4S5K9bvzObjmGynr4L_mZ26MPC501hGLRDfPeDZE-tbp6xBu3iBkJURbFQKr8bOhsg-DijnRRGmY/s1600-h/Picture+159.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjAmqoE4Vl9uudw8K62ZFqGE5E69Jpp4mbiMTrp3BHU0QNIKbHxTYe7re73juingLB4S5K9bvzObjmGynr4L_mZ26MPC501hGLRDfPeDZE-tbp6xBu3iBkJURbFQKr8bOhsg-DijnRRGmY/s400/Picture+159.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129547349067839186" border="0" /></a>"Butts to the world while I stand here unmoving checking out this huge boulder in front of me in the hope that I might glean some sort of enlightenment from it..."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZD7vxXI_uC0pVJRVxRARsCi2bbEgEgG07KX3np3GwuBPWP2yqHvkYms1tr_kqdzMpWcCd9jBfN0WQdk_1Zeoe5QotaUx1GSXY-2oW93S41JShesUkUR66BIJQh3VJnYTmQJBluY6vXIy/s1600-h/Picture+160.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZD7vxXI_uC0pVJRVxRARsCi2bbEgEgG07KX3np3GwuBPWP2yqHvkYms1tr_kqdzMpWcCd9jBfN0WQdk_1Zeoe5QotaUx1GSXY-2oW93S41JShesUkUR66BIJQh3VJnYTmQJBluY6vXIy/s400/Picture+160.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129547550931302114" border="0" /></a>"Doesn't matter that this will make me an even easier prey than I normally am, I will face the rock and forget that it may just be a mild breeze or a hungry lion breathing on my behind.."Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-47190411250987246422007-10-27T05:07:00.000-07:002008-11-15T00:24:32.446-08:00Breaking News!!Found a live piping shrike! Wooo hooooo!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWiUNNElHy-UU0cWwSqRpAXL3AkThEeoDPIXfPRGlV69wqyg7EGmxAwmsBlASyddDatnHSvKJDHd7bKIMjC-CSAyUbf0KWKzHjffX8D0ats9GlRud4bMZSF79yyBZk0jyLFB0Id8cg5wg/s1600-h/Picture+057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWiUNNElHy-UU0cWwSqRpAXL3AkThEeoDPIXfPRGlV69wqyg7EGmxAwmsBlASyddDatnHSvKJDHd7bKIMjC-CSAyUbf0KWKzHjffX8D0ats9GlRud4bMZSF79yyBZk0jyLFB0Id8cg5wg/s400/Picture+057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125988053835068930" border="0" /></a>Bought, and unashamedly wore, actually "wore" - outside, on the streets, a miniskirt - for the first time in my life. And I was not even embarassed the least bit! hehe<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlVqdfW38SywUTINLJswkBsf1cikyG3G2WspO2uA9PDAWUO9JVJrpaOlyAPeUXTlWwzWfNJPysha8B7Aoryq7EZcev3ueJ3zotNHx_C_JbVcdeZHNTaRZn4ZLCW3wBb5lMCXcqgJeV8Gx/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlVqdfW38SywUTINLJswkBsf1cikyG3G2WspO2uA9PDAWUO9JVJrpaOlyAPeUXTlWwzWfNJPysha8B7Aoryq7EZcev3ueJ3zotNHx_C_JbVcdeZHNTaRZn4ZLCW3wBb5lMCXcqgJeV8Gx/s400/Picture+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125987723122587122" border="0" /></a>I actually like it. And to prove that I'm not embarassed wearing a miniskirt - a picture for the world to criticise.<br /><br />Next mission: teeny weeny yellow polka-dot bikini!<br /><br />Last one is not really news, I took this picture of a drunk guy at the harbour the other night cos' I thought he looked familiar...any idea who he resembles? :P<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYuCZNI9PUwXAdXEvbgB9fbCT2SCrGp-7xAH2-jQELGHzz4Lam1vBGTjFR4LjqR8gD7QAxv0nIQPDZ8OyB6G-cyAqK5D8bR0e9Sr-YxnCfPZGvRW85gSEQZ_rr-eJ3qgO-UMu7fXgcFJyH/s1600-h/Picture+011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYuCZNI9PUwXAdXEvbgB9fbCT2SCrGp-7xAH2-jQELGHzz4Lam1vBGTjFR4LjqR8gD7QAxv0nIQPDZ8OyB6G-cyAqK5D8bR0e9Sr-YxnCfPZGvRW85gSEQZ_rr-eJ3qgO-UMu7fXgcFJyH/s400/Picture+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125992026679817746" border="0" /></a>Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-7596474998553324532007-10-25T21:39:00.000-07:002008-11-15T00:24:32.594-08:00Hello from Sydney!Mr. Mistofelees says hi! He says to watch out for your health, your blood sugar levels and blood alcohol contents.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcVUsBHuQKO6W0kqOno7SWYDhwLfRJk2x2YPRVThhD3jpOPs2_Y0zymgj0bWm14HBHjnWhVdc0vm01XVyO81kLt1EaAOXGN5r5dxeQsxDrRXvaWto6bBSBWzacXw-X_w92fJJQmnJlWcke/s1600-h/Picture+069.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcVUsBHuQKO6W0kqOno7SWYDhwLfRJk2x2YPRVThhD3jpOPs2_Y0zymgj0bWm14HBHjnWhVdc0vm01XVyO81kLt1EaAOXGN5r5dxeQsxDrRXvaWto6bBSBWzacXw-X_w92fJJQmnJlWcke/s400/Picture+069.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125506145619555810" border="0" /></a>He loves Sydney, his feathers stay relatively cleaner as compared to India where he has to endure grubby hands picking him up all the time.Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-91403901185839343452007-10-25T05:34:00.000-07:002007-10-25T05:50:09.371-07:00Of IMs and InsanityJerusha's been gone for less than a week now. Thank god for IM, though. So we're completely in touch with every important aspect of her life.<br /><br />Like the guy who's cute and had sideburns growing on his chin. Sadly, he might have shaved that off. Or at least that's what we thought until Jeru revealed all. It turns out the cute guy she was ogling at isn't the man she thought he was. She's seen Mr. Chin Sideburns just once and thought he was someone else.<br /><br />Confused? You should have seen Shirley!<br /><br />Jerusha tends to vanish from her desk a lot, too. Generally, that's not a problem. Today, though after another disappearance (For TGIAF), she comes back a tad insane.<br /><br />That's an excerpt of our chat convo:<br /><br /><div class="chat in"> <div class="msg"><span class="salutation-i">Jerusha </span> <div class="1st">a plague on your house!</div></div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg"> <div class="icon-o"> </div><span class="salutation-o">Sohna </span> <div class="1st">ok tht's not u!!!</div></div> <div class="Nth">or ur really drunk <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 95, 255);">:P</span></div> </div> <div class="chat in"> <div class="msg"> <div class="icon-i"> </div><span class="salutation-i">Jerusha </span> <div class="1st">O true apothecary!</div></div> </div> <div class="chat out"> <div class="msg"> <div class="icon-o"> </div><span class="salutation-o">Sohna </span> <div class="1st">um rite.... tht made more sense<br /><br />See what I mean?<br /><br />Of course, it could have been someone else pinging... Apparently, TGIAF cheered up our Apostle a great deal. To the extent that he googled Shakespearean quotes to drive us crazy. :P<br /><br />Speaking of the Apostle, we're keeping his traditions alive. It's team dinner time today and we're headed there early. To grab a few flaming shots. Just enough to make the team dinner fun. And to make Shirley forget about dog grooming franchises. :)<br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517372271264047973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-585881177015607325.post-36695247712191674772007-10-16T21:17:00.000-07:002008-11-15T00:24:33.198-08:00Second Squeak<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">So Sydney is looming large in the picture. But I am so going to miss little things like these -<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-TR0cDNCH_Alb1j-g4oioURLLaiXWk3fBpN5FbND0M_0HpF0IwHrxAq_Qj3lPFSNdIlJC24D-aXoXw6Z7KVMybnj3I6qgNIwZgWpymTLnZ0eyCMUvd18X2f0R4QCqSighvffd_XAR3t_A/s1600-h/Picture+046.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-TR0cDNCH_Alb1j-g4oioURLLaiXWk3fBpN5FbND0M_0HpF0IwHrxAq_Qj3lPFSNdIlJC24D-aXoXw6Z7KVMybnj3I6qgNIwZgWpymTLnZ0eyCMUvd18X2f0R4QCqSighvffd_XAR3t_A/s400/Picture+046.jpg" border="0" /></a></div> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">That's Sohna under my scalpel - getting ready to get drunk! :-)<br /><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y8EjwNazlds/RxWOeOmHkGI/AAAAAAAAB74/88FmRoMTloY/s1600-h/DSC04373.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y8EjwNazlds/RxWOeOmHkGI/AAAAAAAAB74/88FmRoMTloY/s400/DSC04373.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div>Shirley at Taj Banjara - awaiting her tequila shots. Note the look of eagerness on her face.<br /><br />I think I'm going to completely monopolise the picture content of this blog. *Fun* :-)<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Jerushahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220240614247032733noreply@blogger.com1