tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60084023467247666352024-02-06T19:37:15.228-08:00junkwirejunkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-45132194082217867182016-01-28T11:40:00.003-08:002018-12-28T09:13:12.547-08:00Book Review: Breath, Go Away and Other Stories by Sriman Narayanan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I'm back with yet another book review. And this is a little special, because this marks a lot of new beginnings. This is the first book of short, sweet stories that I'm reviewing. It's also the first book by blogger turned author Sriman Narayanan. "Breath, Go Away and Other Short Stories", is a dramatically <i>short</i> book, but it's a pretty heavy book. It is a collection of stories that is heavy with honesty, humour, happiness and heartbreak. </div>
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Despite the short read and bite-sized format, the stories demand individual attention. Despite the length, The book manages to have a lot of substance. I found it impossible to take it all in, in one sitting.</div>
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The Last story, 'Heights of Height' is an honest portrayal of the struggles a short Indian guy faces on his quest to find a spouse on the monstrous matrimonial site shaadi.com. (And you thought Tinder was bad.) This is the longest story in the book, and perhaps the one that held my intrigue the most. 'Heights of Height' highlights how shallow our standards of Love have become. The protagonist, Kris starts out on his quest to find a beautiful bride, particularly, a fair maiden with a slim body, and a tale of cautious internet love unfolds, only to become a cautionary tale of the misguided standards of Indian love that have irrevocably turned a matter of hearts, into a matter of business, and physical beauty standards. We have also witnessed so many stories of men and women with dusky skin get rejected, it was almost refreshing to have this story point out just how hurtful it can be to get judged by any impossible physical standards of beauty. (Take that skin lightening cream commercials. Your products have officially ruined love for this nation.)<br />
'Kisses to God' is perhaps the only tale with the unforeseen happy ending, which oddly enough, is the point of the story, that sometimes Love finds you when you least expect it, and that you just have to seize it at the moment.</div>
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The title story 'Breath, Go Away' features a beautiful poem that the author admits was written by the pens of pain, on sheets of resentment, fuelled with the ink of anger and heartbreak. The story is an unexpected hurricane of a romance that ensues and leaves behind a devastating calm much like the aftermath of a destructive storm. What is most admirable in this is that the reader really gets to witness all the stages of this tragic story of love and heartbreak. The resent in the poem is made up for by the maturity in the author's understanding words that follow. He acknowledges that perhaps she had her reasons to leave, a story of her own, or perhaps it was just destiny at play. He blames no one and holds no bitterness. And that is a powerful takeaway from the title story. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This book really brings out the feels. </td></tr>
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In yet another story, titled, 'Anger and bitterness', Sriman Narayanan, splendidly examines the difference between the very bitterness he doesn't hold in 'Breath Go Away', and righteousness in anger by taking us to our roots, and explaining a slight nuance in the Vedanta that we may have overlooked. Why did Krishna choose to park Arjuna's Chariot in front of his guru Dronacharya and Bheeshma while explaining to him the Bhagavad Gita? But that's not the only spiritual lesson in the book. 'The Tree and it's Secret' offers a well rooted reminder to persevere and grow. 'The Greatest Conspiracy, with Qualifiers' takes the reader in for a quick dip into philosophy that is both enriching and enduring.<br />
'Momentous emotions' is a story of unexpressed love with a philosophical angle that argues for consent. It's a story that supposes that if only hindu weddings included the ritualistic "speak now or forever hold your peace" question of consent, it may just deter hindu parents into forcing their children into a marriage. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Technically, a marriage is saved. So pour the CHAMPAGN</td></tr>
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'Tears in the bathroom' is a sincere ode to the bravery of women. What absolutely works and draws you in to this story, hook, line and sinker is that, the tears are considered a sign of greatness, strength, nobility and endurance and <b><i>not</i></b> weakness. This story achieves what Madhuri Dixit and the vogue empower campaign have been going on about. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://45.media.tumblr.com/e3de38a6bd15443694b800f8f400db85/tumblr_ne0m7w0FFx1rwbf4ro4_r1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://45.media.tumblr.com/e3de38a6bd15443694b800f8f400db85/tumblr_ne0m7w0FFx1rwbf4ro4_r1_500.gif" height="135" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No beta, Tears are a sign of strength. and Women are Strong.</td></tr>
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'Priceless Conversations' is an adorably cheesy story that teases out and celebrates not only the innocence, but also the intelligence in children. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://shirt.hoboninja.com/images/products/GratersGonnaGrate_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://shirt.hoboninja.com/images/products/GratersGonnaGrate_002.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I probably added the cheesy bit just so I can add this picture. </td></tr>
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' A Shiver of Joy', 'That Something', 'Bride Wanted', and 'My Hot Date' are the mischievously humorous stories. There is more than just humour though, There is always a little bit of extra surprise and a hilarious plot twist that has everyone literally do what can only be explained by the following GIF in this book.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank god for GIFS</td></tr>
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The added highlight is that the book is peppered with the original cute Tamil/Telugu slang that the stories took place in and mentions of Maddy, Resident south Indian Chocolate boy actor Madhavan in 'That Something', besides the best possible romance story in the entire book,' My Hot Date', the spellbinding and incredibly well written tribute to the madras filter kaapi.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filter coffee is true Love. <3 td=""><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--></3></td></tr>
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Breath, Go Away and Other stories is an incredibly touching collection of Short stories to be savoured on slow Sunday mornings, best accompanied by a nice tumbler of hot hot south Indian filter coffee, and a tang of love. <br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Have you read Breath Go Away and Other Stories? What did you think of the book? Are you a coffee person? Leave me your own thoughts and reviews in the comments below. </span></i></b><br />
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-30300077820326771552015-12-27T10:54:00.001-08:002018-12-28T09:13:12.509-08:00Book Review: The Bestseller She Wrote by Ravi Subramanian<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Disclaimer: I'm trying my best to not spoil anything all through this review but I'd still like to give you guys a heads up. Proceed with caution.<br />
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This is the second Ravi Subramanian book I've read. And after "God is a Gamer" (You can find the review of that book <a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/10/book-review-god-is-gamer-by-ravi.html" target="_blank">here</a>), I had fairly high expectations. But "The Bestseller She wrote" is different. Ravi Subramanian has moved away from his usual M.O at least for a significant part of the book. The Bestseller she wrote is not a thriller per se, as I've come to expect of Ravi Subramanian. You will not find any action sequences, or car chases here. If you expect to find murder, gore, or robbery or even some hacking on the side, you're going to be disappointed, because even though Aditya Kapoor, the slightly vain bestselling novelist protagonist of 'The Bestseller She Wrote' is a writer of thriller books, "The Bestseller She Wrote" is itself more of a romantic suspense novel than a thriller. <br />
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This book is a whimsical joyride on an emotional roller coaster. It is about lust, love, love lost, ambition, jealousy, greed and more. In short, it personifies all the sins and shortcomings of human beings. Aditya Kapoor is a successful writer, full time banker and part time diva who has mastered the balancing act, but you can't exactly say the same about his humility. He has a big head, an inflated ego, and lots of vanity. Shreya, the young aspiring writer and management trainee that Aditya starts an affair with is a little harder to pin down. She's portrayed as a ballsy, ambitious, hard to say no to kind of girl. But she's a bad loser, she's possessive and pushy and it becomes evident that her motivation is to quite simply ride Aditya's coattails in to fame. But she claims to love him. An adulterous romantic tryst begins between them, a married man, and his subordinate. Ravi Subramanian masterfully unravels the predictable storyline that follows, the pinpricks of a conscience, the guilty pleasures, the late nights and the lies, that get better and easier with time, the suspicion, the confirmation of Maya's worst doubts, The sting of love, and the heartbreak that follows, only, it's accompanied by ebola, that Maya catches at a global education conference in the city of love, Paris. Oh, the irony. It's at this twisted juncture that the story takes a turn. Aditya repents his philandering ways and the prospect of losing Maya forever really shakes him. What makes it worse, is knowing that Maya will die believing him to be a worthless cheating infidel. This is followed by an abrupt end to his tryst with Shreya and a monologist profession of undying love in the isolation room with Aditya in a hazmat suit and Maya unconscious. Two jabs of a miracle vaccine later, Maya Livesss! *Should've said spoiler alert*. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But this is basically the situation with Maya</td></tr>
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If this were any other regular romance novel, the story would've gotten its happy ending right there, but this is a Ravi Subramanian Romantic thriller. Remember how Shreya is a hard to say no to, pushy person who is also a bad loser? Yeah, She's not all too happy about Maya's recovery <i>or</i> Aditya's path to redemption. Understandably, She creates a scene when Aditya dumps her, but that's not all. The girl has plenty of other tricks up her sleeve to hold Aditya in their miserable <i>relationship</i>. Aditya promised to mentor her and make her a bestseller and she's not letting him off the hook that easily. Your wife is dying? Maybe you can read my manuscript? It'll help you take your mind off of it. And so begins the damnation of Aditya's life. Losing out on all fronts, will Aditya be able to free himself of Shreya and convince Maya to take him back? Or will Shreya have the last word? It was at this point that I began to speculate if this book would go down the gone girl path. Is Shreya Kaushik the Indian Amy Elliott Dunne? What are her real motives?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or are there other forces at play controlling even Shreya? Who is the real puppet master?</td></tr>
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Aditya Kapoor gives Shreya a little piece of advice on the style of writing that works in India at a point rather early in the book. He rather simplistically tells her, the secret formula for concocting up a bestseller is easy peasy, give them a heart wrenching, tragic journey all through the story, and then throw in a plot twist and give them a happy ending. This book is also kinda meta in a lot of ways in that it not only follows its protagonists advice in terms of the plotline, but it also provides a unique perspective into the entire publishing scene in India. Something that would be worth reading for any aspiring Indian writer. And I suspect "The bestseller she wrote" went through a strikingly similar promotional publishing process that Shreya's book gets. Right down to the blogadda book reviews. Oddly, I am sold on the explanation behind marketing books. In the very beginning, Shreya boldly questions Aditya at his IIM-B speech about the morality behind vigorously promoting books as if they were just products. At the time she doesn't seem to buy his explanation, but by the end of the book, She's just as drawn into the circus of promotion going even as far as to view the bad press she gets out of her relationship with Aditya in the tabloids to give her book sales a boost, which really does prove the author's point. Through all this, Aditya has one solid rock. His tolerant best friend Sanjay who not only warns and looks out for him but also takes him in when Maya kicks him out. He puts up with Aditya's antics even though Aditya isn't quite so understanding towards Diana, Sanjay's fiance who he believes is constantly trying to one up him at work, because what is a Ravi Subramanian book without office politics. Diana for her part is just as understanding as Sanjay despite Aditya's attitude towards her.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just going to leave this picture here</td></tr>
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And then comes the major plot twist. Is Aditya able to convince Maya to take him back? How does he escape from Shreya's clutches? Is that even possible? Who leaked details about Aditya's infidelity to the press? These are questions you'll have to find answers for in the book. While it is not as fast paced as "God is a Gamer", It is a good romantic suspense novel, with the trademark plot twists. It is even surprisingly moral in assigning guilt for a book about an adulterous extra marital affair. As Maya puts it, Adultery is a choice. Not a mistake. Will I recommend it to a friend? Yes. Priced at 295, available for cheaper online, it is definitely an interesting read.<br />
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I am reviewing <a href="http://dl.flipkart.com/dl/bestseller-she-wrote-english/p/itmeca2xhvfmtdmf?affid=contactblo&pid=9789385152382" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">‘The Bestseller She Wrote’ </span></a> by Ravi Subramanian as a part of the biggest <a href="http://blog.blogadda.com/2011/05/04/indian-bloggers-book-reviews" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;"> Book Review Program </span></a> for <a href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">Indian Bloggers</span></a>. Participate now to get free books!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Have you read "The Bestseller She Wrote", by Ravi Subramanian yet? What did you think of the book? Do you like Romantic suspense Novels? What makes a good thriller tick in your opinion? Let me know in the comments below!</i></span><br />
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-72418018032796128142015-06-18T12:02:00.001-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.645-08:0010 People Every Book Worm Secretly Hates<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Remember when I talked about how much </span></span><a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/10/books-and-i-definitely-best-love-story.html" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">I love reading</a><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">? That probably didn't surprise you much. But love is only appreciated when it is contrasted with hate. like how you only notice the light when it gets real dark. (Clearly, I had to resist the urge to copy paste the lyrics of let her go by passenger here. I'll still </span></span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBumgq5yVrA" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">link</a><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> you though. ) So in this post you'll see the flip side of me. The hateful annoyed underbelly of me.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basically, this version of me.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> There’s a very particular
set of people who really annoy the avid reader in me. These people just
effortlessly land in my hate list. These little peeves just drive me nuts.
If you’re one of these people, I HATE YOU. If you’re not on my list, you’re
probably me, albeit a different version of me. And we can be best friends. If
you are on my hate list though, don't worry</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> about it too much, because most of
us book worms have a hate list and then a kill list. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> #1 Are you one of those people who live in a
city that has book fairs where you can buy books ‘by weight’, Like x dollars
for a kilo of books and the like? And you and I are friends on social media
where you post pictures of the 27 books you bought for like 10 dollars? I HATE
YOU.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#2 Are
you one of those people who owns a cozy bar or a nice little café or
restaurant? Where you thought it’d be nice to line up the walls with <i>fake </i>books
as décor? I HATE YOU.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#3 Are you one of those
people who borrow books from me and then promptly pack up and move across the
country to some unknown secret state and I have no way to track you down? I
HATE YOU.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">#4 Are you one of those
people who borrow books from me and lend it to other people only to tell me
that the other person has </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">lost </i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">my book after I’ve asked you for my book
back like 15 times already? I HATE YOU. You really suck. And the worst part is
I’m too nice a person to even be mad at you because it was the other person who
lost my book, not you. Nevertheless, I secretly hate you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#5 Are you one of those
people who like to point out that I have no boyfriend and no life because I
read too much crime fiction? I HATE YOU.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#6 Are you one of those
people who like to tell me they love reading, and then later clarify by saying
they read a lot of magazines and newspapers? I HATE YOU. And for the last time,
reading magazines and newspapers is not the same thing as reading books. You’ll
feel the difference when I smack you in the face with a real book. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#7 Are you one of those
people who see me intently reading a book and interpret this as ‘not really
doing anything worthwhile’ and choose exactly then to tell me about all the
adorable cute things your crush is always doing. I HATE YOU.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#8 Are you one of those
people with exceptional memory who catch me periodically rereading books and
shoot me judgmental looks and say things like “I thought you already read that
book” or “Why don’t you find something new read?” or even sarcastically ask
“How slow do you read?”. I HATE YOU. And I have one word for you, ALWAYS.
I will always reread that book. And I’ll hope I have selective amnesia
and forget it so I can reread it all over again like it was the first time I
read it. Because guess what, it’s better than Falling in love.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt;">#9 Are you my mom who
thinks I should really put my book down and be more social and say hello to the
aunt who came over who I know is just aching to tell me that the last time she
saw me, I was two feet tall? <s>I HATE YOU.</s> Okay, I don’t hate you. I kinda
love you. But I’m social enough and all that, Mom. I even liked that aunt’s
status about parenting on Facebook. That’s as social as I get. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Did I miss anyone on your
hate list? What’s your book worm pet peeve? Did you find yourself on my hate
list? Do you know someone who has crossed the book worm in you? Let me know in
the comments below!</span></div>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-16503969007258917292015-02-13T13:36:00.000-08:002018-12-28T09:13:12.460-08:0010 Guys You Should Avoid On Facebook This Valentine's Day Weekend And Possibly Forever After<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You know when you're talking to someone on Facebook and you barely know the person, like you've seen this person around but you've never said a word to him/her in real life or sometimes even when you're talking to random strangers and somehow they are sitting at their computer, typing out their deepest darkest secrets, confessing, pouring out their heart to you, And you're just sitting there staring at your monitor like<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Whyyy?! Whyyy me?!?! How did I get picked for this?!"</blockquote>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Seriously. This happens to me so much. Is this just me? Did Facebook somehow list me as one of it's in house priests for confessions and forgot to notify me of my position? Are there others out there that belong to some kinda Facebook seminary?</span> Because here's the thing, My Facebook account is like a church minus the religion, Jesus, and the gravy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiq3-aPuF5WECPOrQ-sXJjXHMtLDs0K1ltXF14sOmXmZ3LH3GC5L97_rGjlMoYAAT6ix05lExQMgq8FRv5ERoZl1mC9u9d4ff82ell0UcosFvcdFvY8dAkQYjC6h_Og9RxLptpYAbFu7MC/s640/blogger-image--1980680308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiq3-aPuF5WECPOrQ-sXJjXHMtLDs0K1ltXF14sOmXmZ3LH3GC5L97_rGjlMoYAAT6ix05lExQMgq8FRv5ERoZl1mC9u9d4ff82ell0UcosFvcdFvY8dAkQYjC6h_Og9RxLptpYAbFu7MC/s200/blogger-image--1980680308.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I'm also constantly amazed by how many "besties" I never knew I even had but actually do when these people tell me things like, "Come on, I can't trust just anyone with these things, You're my bestie, You gottta understand."<br />
And I'm just sitting there like,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Wow. This is news to me. What makes you think that?"</blockquote>
On a completely unrelated side note: If you're one of the people who've said something very similar to me,<b><i> of course, I'm not talking about you,</i></b> I'm talking about that<b><i> other </i></b>person who thinks I'm their bestie. Totally not you.<br />
So, Of course being the nice person that I am, I usually end up wasting two hours of my life listening to this persons life story and all of their problems, and I even try to be as polite as I can and keep the sarcasm out as much as possible, But every now and again these weirdos go just a little overboard and start giving me stalker vibes, and get all creepy, etc and I sneakily screenshot this stuff for blog fodder.<br />
So here's my list of the 10 guys you should avoid on Facebook this Valentine's Day weekend and possibly forever after.<br />
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<b>#1 The guy who won't ever give up</b><br />
This guy has real problems. He was in your class in ninth grade and has never said a word to you. But now he <b><i>just.won't.shut</i></b>.<i><b>up</b></i>. You replied to him the first time he said hello because you were naive and believed him to be normal. Then he gave you the 'My mom is secretly trying to poison me, help' vibes and you decided to ignore him. but this guy doesn't take hints. He's too busy asking for your phone number.<br />
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Fun tip: Notice the date and time stamps.</div>
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<b>#2 The guy who resents his ex, and by ex, He means his ex-crush</b><br />
This guy is an acquaintance. He was probably in your friends' class and You might have been introduced at a party. So this guy starts off by asking you what college you were going to, You make the mistake of telling him. And then this happens</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEQepAMsXWvbPzKxFNa6sgxtkXsTKA4MqoI3RaEOiJ8N_o1qL513m2e3Udj6hvQ6jCm9rwCmq9R9w37Q7Y2-EMubiMH79_D1_TrAWqHhh-1Zmj07T6HgYh3WWyhlXbIHIkn6MrDXoRsnoD/s640/blogger-image--374338190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEQepAMsXWvbPzKxFNa6sgxtkXsTKA4MqoI3RaEOiJ8N_o1qL513m2e3Udj6hvQ6jCm9rwCmq9R9w37Q7Y2-EMubiMH79_D1_TrAWqHhh-1Zmj07T6HgYh3WWyhlXbIHIkn6MrDXoRsnoD/s320/blogger-image--374338190.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://media.giphy.com/media/ToMjGpjpXMFPshSYGLm/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="219" data-original-width="390" height="179" src="https://media.giphy.com/media/ToMjGpjpXMFPshSYGLm/giphy.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That sad moment when he doesn't even get your joke. :P</td></tr>
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<b>#3 The guy with this cover picture</b></div>
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The only reason anyone would accept a friend request from this guy was if they had a death wish, or rather a wish to wind up murdered in an old, dilapidated, shut down subway station, all alone. Because this guy is obviously a serial killer who likes to stake his victims out on Facebook.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBfc1Iwqvm-mnLThtfJq-egMK4T0zqcGrPBW6XMqMkRhtGW0h1H20hJ7L7NXp0lKxvHIm02RWZMOiDNJHelERYRqOYQ0P0UNaiwyXyic7HpQWmWhKMeVXHYWaml7Q1koMBSt5BFQyunTF/s640/blogger-image-1937309694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBfc1Iwqvm-mnLThtfJq-egMK4T0zqcGrPBW6XMqMkRhtGW0h1H20hJ7L7NXp0lKxvHIm02RWZMOiDNJHelERYRqOYQ0P0UNaiwyXyic7HpQWmWhKMeVXHYWaml7Q1koMBSt5BFQyunTF/s320/blogger-image-1937309694.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The kind of people who send me friend requests.</span><br />
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<b>#4 The guy who asks you to send him a friend request because evidently he's been blocked</b></div>
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You're reading his message and just thinking, </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"You don't really get the concept of blocking, do you?"</blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxz9fenDEWnKBtZrTdRobsTUTnyf7KtFS4F5vPMRHq8ZJu_axaLG_Q3BdPpkkubbXXGmf2HKDRnu0jbTwdmuxbUhKok3UOJlMIZcFqqNHs4nM4D1ZYzEEvyeo0nqdYiEe8opRwkN-uiqPW/s640/blogger-image--446795550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxz9fenDEWnKBtZrTdRobsTUTnyf7KtFS4F5vPMRHq8ZJu_axaLG_Q3BdPpkkubbXXGmf2HKDRnu0jbTwdmuxbUhKok3UOJlMIZcFqqNHs4nM4D1ZYzEEvyeo0nqdYiEe8opRwkN-uiqPW/s320/blogger-image--446795550.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">You're kinda missing the point, sweetie.</span></td></tr>
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</blockquote>
<b>#5 The guy who claims to have seen you at school but you've never heard of him let alone seen him</b><br />
This guy likes to repeat things. he sends you everything twice and can't spell, as is evidenced by how he keeps spelling school as 'skol'.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMj0dX-enRvsZXeoRmiT4kLQ1jOF2LlmAdJEdMQpXHlJyxYZ2HCB5SOB2D0rDLovv5foa8UAdR_MB0ob5679eEdtRM1F7gFcTUFBl1InIVQ78rcsf_o7nENESyftORSKr214CVPWN5176/s640/blogger-image-42080111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMj0dX-enRvsZXeoRmiT4kLQ1jOF2LlmAdJEdMQpXHlJyxYZ2HCB5SOB2D0rDLovv5foa8UAdR_MB0ob5679eEdtRM1F7gFcTUFBl1InIVQ78rcsf_o7nENESyftORSKr214CVPWN5176/s320/blogger-image-42080111.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Right. I'm sure. skol. of course. How did I forget?!</span></td></tr>
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<b>#6 The guy who sent the exact same message to you and your 300 other girl friends on Facebook</b></div>
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You think you were the chosen one, but then the next day at school, everyone's talking about the exact same flirtatious Facebook message. No, Your account wasn't hacked. This guy just sent that very same creepy message to every single person you know.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxQqzlzzVrlGKNziE4Qz8Q6gw0LpdXH3SzMaR6kZdD5BPFK5h3TeA7V21WMuB8kRpj7xtG_j72ixSdbrOC9FnLDwz7e34hQ7XEmjg3jvlRziBJ6O0HTgZBs0nmkD5nNRHBkI9DdhYk0_A/s640/blogger-image--1201214374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxQqzlzzVrlGKNziE4Qz8Q6gw0LpdXH3SzMaR6kZdD5BPFK5h3TeA7V21WMuB8kRpj7xtG_j72ixSdbrOC9FnLDwz7e34hQ7XEmjg3jvlRziBJ6O0HTgZBs0nmkD5nNRHBkI9DdhYk0_A/s320/blogger-image--1201214374.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This person has a fetish for mallu's too.</span></td></tr>
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<b>#7 The annoying kid who sat next to you in your fourth grade class, He grew up to be the guy with no shame whatsoever.</b></div>
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This guy can't spell the word 'school' either. Your best friend from fourth grade told you he asked her out two weeks ago and she said no. And it turns out its your turn this week. He owns up to it with no shame at all if you confront him about it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicND-J8e4KYfiEHCal3YNjnMffW0_8_uOErknap4SCHQc45ISeoHhe6tqEhUmUbOM_cqw3Ehc4SlNAYiVtQOkyG70pWIkSr-wF68ClwNPQ6fMNTdeM3xvRoFJOlncx0FsGn4do1-_C4a37/s640/blogger-image-76955037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicND-J8e4KYfiEHCal3YNjnMffW0_8_uOErknap4SCHQc45ISeoHhe6tqEhUmUbOM_cqw3Ehc4SlNAYiVtQOkyG70pWIkSr-wF68ClwNPQ6fMNTdeM3xvRoFJOlncx0FsGn4do1-_C4a37/s200/blogger-image-76955037.jpg" width="177" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbwZLQKqXLHbp9SUbRTcFirgbCcu-u-r0OhOMRfFi7Ly40NXWCBU1NytsNTap7PDSu1DRnDRq959gH1fs9Gqq4kqmCPnZb9xiCILdP2oqxtHI0rPSRkMJo7R2a6FsINUFDqB7llaYsJHJ/s640/blogger-image-1001529195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbwZLQKqXLHbp9SUbRTcFirgbCcu-u-r0OhOMRfFi7Ly40NXWCBU1NytsNTap7PDSu1DRnDRq959gH1fs9Gqq4kqmCPnZb9xiCILdP2oqxtHI0rPSRkMJo7R2a6FsINUFDqB7llaYsJHJ/s200/blogger-image-1001529195.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm giving you a way out. Admit it's a joke, You idiot.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicND-J8e4KYfiEHCal3YNjnMffW0_8_uOErknap4SCHQc45ISeoHhe6tqEhUmUbOM_cqw3Ehc4SlNAYiVtQOkyG70pWIkSr-wF68ClwNPQ6fMNTdeM3xvRoFJOlncx0FsGn4do1-_C4a37/s640/blogger-image-76955037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6kbHyKXjFtL-UGZFxFiTwsc3tGzDhNy6JSd1XinrNxvBu3SCxTlhYYCkeFAsp5fZzmjVPnHZx9S21rmcZLPjGtV_7DAsXJpc6Fz3Lfx5Ybqn1pC6EKVEuAYX9FmW4uqeF1V54XzHCTGi/s640/blogger-image-652947599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6kbHyKXjFtL-UGZFxFiTwsc3tGzDhNy6JSd1XinrNxvBu3SCxTlhYYCkeFAsp5fZzmjVPnHZx9S21rmcZLPjGtV_7DAsXJpc6Fz3Lfx5Ybqn1pC6EKVEuAYX9FmW4uqeF1V54XzHCTGi/s200/blogger-image-652947599.jpg" width="177" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">See?Cannot spell school</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbwZLQKqXLHbp9SUbRTcFirgbCcu-u-r0OhOMRfFi7Ly40NXWCBU1NytsNTap7PDSu1DRnDRq959gH1fs9Gqq4kqmCPnZb9xiCILdP2oqxtHI0rPSRkMJo7R2a6FsINUFDqB7llaYsJHJ/s640/blogger-image-1001529195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkqY_5rAvuiwZAsP1bioT8NYGbIPU1INcEXv8eJ7B-DTMjAGyDAngLzccEw0K7O_7AmbtjWUZRm6ASd2SrEc4CGuwRAwvSkoUVtDeUDGS6BOgSwfptTL0su36qJldLcYYlsmavGjl3Jii/s640/blogger-image-4850707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkqY_5rAvuiwZAsP1bioT8NYGbIPU1INcEXv8eJ7B-DTMjAGyDAngLzccEw0K7O_7AmbtjWUZRm6ASd2SrEc4CGuwRAwvSkoUVtDeUDGS6BOgSwfptTL0su36qJldLcYYlsmavGjl3Jii/s200/blogger-image-4850707.jpg" width="178" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">You still don't see where I'm going with this?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG1XWZpqFwisXZlCGCU8l8iUXkk0MJpgrMtvE_9KZP99xSxozPHKNH49FUUIwbJugZb_hDMDxo0U9HQSXOW5G7o76tT3RZuH0hHBR_QyF3ifggQz1_aT-xM6DMTQ_AlH-0FOJ50DFfQ8p8/s640/blogger-image-1727991645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG1XWZpqFwisXZlCGCU8l8iUXkk0MJpgrMtvE_9KZP99xSxozPHKNH49FUUIwbJugZb_hDMDxo0U9HQSXOW5G7o76tT3RZuH0hHBR_QyF3ifggQz1_aT-xM6DMTQ_AlH-0FOJ50DFfQ8p8/s200/blogger-image-1727991645.jpg" width="175" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And Busted!</span></td></tr>
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He still just says "whats's the problem with that?"<br />
You're just thinking,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Have you no shame?!?!"</blockquote>
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<b>#8 The guy who's last name sounds a lot like dental floss</b></div>
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This guy is looking for therapy. He tells you his mother died two months ago and she had your name and you remind him of her. This guy also looks much older than you are. But you can't stop thinking about how weird his last name is.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwL6-RPOlrUYrtNVnoofzraPyUyaM3EVnBSe0inzD0EJ_G0BFcmgsoxM329xWEowtbUke6u7xEre7gsHVJXbMSnzGn3wFic-eT59FjVCY-j7nCFHuAoOIsxQROxDIfQZEbAy_iO0jyWn-O/s640/blogger-image-1144157665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwL6-RPOlrUYrtNVnoofzraPyUyaM3EVnBSe0inzD0EJ_G0BFcmgsoxM329xWEowtbUke6u7xEre7gsHVJXbMSnzGn3wFic-eT59FjVCY-j7nCFHuAoOIsxQROxDIfQZEbAy_iO0jyWn-O/s320/blogger-image-1144157665.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seriously? Flossy?</span></td></tr>
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<b>#9 The guy who sends you way too many smileys after you just said 'hmm'</b></div>
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This guy is probably a liar. Do Not Trust this guy. Who the hell sends so many smileys after you just said 'hmm'. You don't even want to know. Just stop texting him back. right now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWVnTme2RjBiTLotqcNhHViw1WRqIcQfcXJB_doG05gD86DpST-bXwPdVt057jKQlpUzhPKKgTe0M216ixizQBLbG2dI-z4vBPf9FMAkcWCFwpu5NS3vkNAPJ85nfN7zOVKhkRmHQrmYv/s640/blogger-image--1387439133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWVnTme2RjBiTLotqcNhHViw1WRqIcQfcXJB_doG05gD86DpST-bXwPdVt057jKQlpUzhPKKgTe0M216ixizQBLbG2dI-z4vBPf9FMAkcWCFwpu5NS3vkNAPJ85nfN7zOVKhkRmHQrmYv/s400/blogger-image--1387439133.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
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<b>#10 The girl who wants to puhhhh with you. She's probably a guy.</b> </div>
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She has her school listed as the same one you went to. Her profile picture looks normal enough, You accept her friend request, she starts texting you, and she makes no sense. She tells you you look like a doll, a Barbie doll, and pretty and calls you chubby alternatively. She tells you that she just randomly typed your first name because some guy friend of hers asked her to and you were their catch 'as a fish'. She tells you all this in very terrible English. She wants you to accept her friends friend request. She tells you, "He is an boy. Her ID name is John Chris". Throughout your conversation she uses he and she interchangeably and you're convinced that she's probably very confused about her sex. She tells you her friend John Chris needs good people with your name to talk to. You stall and just keep collecting blog fodder. she wants to meet. She wants your phone number. You tell her "Too bad, You can't have it.". Eventually she concludes that you don't seem to like her very much and tells you she's going to go die now, buh-bye! and you're just like </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Oh. Quit being so melodramatic"</blockquote>
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Sure enough, She's back, sending you numerous 'hi' 's. Not dead. But because you came back to your senses, you don't reply. She probably wanted to kidnap you and sell you on the black market in Bangkok.<br />
She's also the one who asked me if I was Roman Catholic. I have the name of a Hindu goddess. So that was a pretty stupid question, but she got me onto the whole Facebook seminary idea.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5t3uRBgS8KsjqI0_CZq-jeiRSzfw9A8DwnFXzzSKQFq8mS9KITOuVslzMYArsS1b728AG1W94qPwY4HhQ2H5jnKG9S0AkLVLjg96l47kEb-IYbDRvMk7CWHpuwMaKfe3ZOYLHdU-eiBPf/s640/blogger-image-1420423513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5t3uRBgS8KsjqI0_CZq-jeiRSzfw9A8DwnFXzzSKQFq8mS9KITOuVslzMYArsS1b728AG1W94qPwY4HhQ2H5jnKG9S0AkLVLjg96l47kEb-IYbDRvMk7CWHpuwMaKfe3ZOYLHdU-eiBPf/s640/blogger-image-1420423513.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll spare you the rest of the screenshots with this one.</span></td></tr>
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How I deal with the crazy:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Besides a serving of honesty</span></td></tr>
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I mostly end up blocking these people or turning off the chat for them (That way I always appear offline to these people) after taking screenshots of this God sent gold stuff for the blog, of course. These people are also the reason my Valentine's day plans involve buying cheap discount candy, chocolate and eating it all. Like a boss.<br />
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<b><i>What are your plans for Valentine's day weekend?Have you met such weird people on Facebook, How do you deal with the weirdos? Do you Screenshot? What was your weirdest Facebook encounter? Let me know in the comments below!</i></b><br />
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-83162645357526925992014-12-13T21:39:00.000-08:002018-12-28T09:13:12.670-08:00That Time I Almost Drowned To Death...Almost.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm the kind of person who makes a conscious effort to spread positive energy in the world. That is why I write posts titled stuff like, <a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/03/happiness-among-other-lies.html" target="_blank">"Happiness among other lies"</a>. And along the same lines, I've been wanting to write about fear. And overcoming it to take the plunge. Then I saw this dew film by Mountain Dew. And I was finally inspired to write this.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Wsbgh3U7tnY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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What better way to talk about rising above fear than by telling you what happened when I did jump? I drowned. Almost died. Almost. And here's my survival story.<br />
When I was eight years old, We lived in Singapore for about a year, and I went to school there. Our apartment building in Singapore had a huge swimming pool and naturally, I evolved to live like an amphibian. In other words, I was an eight year old mermaid.<br />
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The pool became like a natural habitat. I had swim practice everyday, and I loved it. I was also a pretty arrogantly confident child, fastest flippers in the pool. I was always the kid in the deep end of the pool, splashing water on our coach. There's video proof of this, in our old home movie camcorders tapes. I even had a floating board with a cartoon shark on it. Not that I ever used the floating board, I was obviously a pro. And then as fate would have it, We moved back to India and my eyes burned up and shot up blood red in every single pool here. They put in too much chlorine in the water and none of the pools would work for me here. So of course, I promptly forgot all about swimming and traded in my shark floating board for tennis shoes and a racket.</div>
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But then tennis didn't exactly draw me in the way the water did. And I still yearned to swim again. Years went by, and finally we found a pool that was perfect. Indoors, with lukewarm perfect water that would not burn my eyes. And I couldn't wait to dive straight in. The first time we visited the pool, The water lured me in. And its not like I wasn't a pro swimmer, So I jumped, didn't even take the stairs or the ladder at the edge of the pool. I nosedived straight into the water. Only, I hadn't considered Lamarck’s evolutionary theory about the use and disuse of organs. He was a smart French dude who believed that giraffes initially had short necks, and then eventually their necks grew longer because they had to stretch to reach the branches higher up on trees for food. Basically he believed that if you use a particular organ more, it will adapt to your usage and become stronger, the converse was also true according to his theory, i.e. if you didn't use a particular organ, it's disuse would cause it to deteriorate and eventually disappear. Too bad they only taught me this in high school. Because when I hit the water, I immediately started to drown. I was like Ariel with legs instead of her mermaid tail. And I don't care If Darwin disproved Lamarck's theory, because I'd just lost my mermaid tail, and Darwin couldn't explain that. It had been way too long since I was last in a pool and my muscles had forgotten how to swim. My legs did not kick, the water was pulling me in. And I started to gulp it down and choke. My brain had actually lost touch, and forgotten how to swim altogether even though my heart still remembered the joy that was the water. My limbs had failed me. And I was going under. I couldn't even do the dead man’s float. By this time I thought I was going to die. But I wasn't ready to give in just yet. I started screaming for help between taking lungfuls of air. But There was no one there, no life guard, Just a bunch of kids who were a little further away. I was beginning to hear and see flashes of my too short life. But Thankfully, these kids were older and on hearing me, knew to come rescue me. Those kids were heroes. Now I'll stop writing dramatic clichéd phrases that you've read one too many times. And then I didn't drown. I didn't die.</div>
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But the real trouble came after that. I developed a phobia for diving. My parents enrolled me back in summer swimming classes at the same pool and I could even get over myself and get back into the water because that's how much I loved it but I could never dive in. I always walked down the steps or climbed the ladder. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture is free. I got it from pexels.com and later customized it.</td></tr>
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Eventually the summer's swim class progressed and they moved on to diving. We had an amazing coach. The man was like a shark himself. You'd see him at one side of the pool, he'd go under and you couldn't even see him in the water. Two seconds later he'd be at the other end of the pool. He was swift and so much like a fish. I respected him. But he could never get me to take the plunge. I'd stand in line to dive in to the pool. But I'd let all the other kids go ahead of me. Because I couldn't jump. Death didn't make the same mistake twice. I got lucky the first time around. Would I again? I wasn't willing to bet my life on that.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture is free. I got it from pexels.com and later customized it.</td></tr>
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So I'd be standing there letting all the other kids go dive ahead of me. This went on for so long, that my dad decided to trick me and push me into the water. And that went on for almost the entire class. Every time I had to jump. I'd be standing there, telling them I'll jump when I was ready, and I'd never be. And they'd push me in. </div>
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The summer class had only two days left to draw to an end and I still hadn't overcome my fear of diving. And I knew then that if I didn't do it in those last two days, I'd never be able to. I was crunched for time. I was scared but I had to jump. I had to take the plunge. And quite literally too. The previous night, I steeled myself, told myself I'd do it. I'd take the plunge.</div>
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The next morning I packed in some of my mom’s pictures of idols of gods, that she had collected from various temples along with my swimsuit. I needed all the magic and faith I could get. I had to survive. I had to take the plunge. It was now or never. And then that day, I jumped. I did. And I swam. And I didn't drown. And I didn't die. I was a survivor. And that was when I realized God was just a massive source of strength within yourself, a reserve that you can draw from, that had no idea even existed, when you couldn't count on yourself. Those last two days had to be my best memories at the pool, In the water. because ever since the fear hasn't returned. I've been quite fearless. I even went on to win some swim competitions at school. Even went river rafting in the Beas river in Manali, during my trip there.I had the best seat on our raft and fell off nearly twice. It was epic. And guess what I heard there? They told me, that that was the exact same stretch of river they'd shot the old Mountain Dew ads at.<br />
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I'm on one of these rafts! This is us in 2011. I'm wearing a white helmet. and sitting on the far edge/nose of the raft.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom and I after river rafting. totally drenched.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWZCZTgJwhXpc-ysA8IwB7_wfw6bELDCWokIClxemU2MNKC5jnWxiuw3rWDDk1xXt2rLjnxgBtsrQtoGDl2YH4Dt6LgtrEKM5uQINBKp8eL7-qIQb4QJ5imsPKQEFOC80vOxWqwa75tRc/s640/blogger-image--1883890084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWZCZTgJwhXpc-ysA8IwB7_wfw6bELDCWokIClxemU2MNKC5jnWxiuw3rWDDk1xXt2rLjnxgBtsrQtoGDl2YH4Dt6LgtrEKM5uQINBKp8eL7-qIQb4QJ5imsPKQEFOC80vOxWqwa75tRc/s320/blogger-image--1883890084.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the rock that we brought back as a ouvenir from river rafting.</td></tr>
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Who would've known? Go over here to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/mountaindewindia" target="_blank">like the Mountain dew Facebook page</a>. </div>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever had any near death experiences? How do you rise above the fear? What does it take to get you to take the plunge? Let me know in the comments below.</span></b></i></div>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-11976673507901980622014-10-31T02:24:00.001-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.400-08:00Book Review: God Is A Gamer by Ravi Subramnaian<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Disclaimer: I've tried my best to not spoil anything. But, I'd still like to say, proceed with caution.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbbSZaZLn3aYEv5adu8w6-uHWiHGDp6nT3hUWjSHxnl9NBetV_NeGT9s1VpPxN5-YWHa1kr6UH_6e5YwjJsVwbIbZ2Pg_6_DmBr2B-oVsNXv11slLqAnoedbwwITbThqLEW_VSVkC76oc/s640/blogger-image-1657803191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbbSZaZLn3aYEv5adu8w6-uHWiHGDp6nT3hUWjSHxnl9NBetV_NeGT9s1VpPxN5-YWHa1kr6UH_6e5YwjJsVwbIbZ2Pg_6_DmBr2B-oVsNXv11slLqAnoedbwwITbThqLEW_VSVkC76oc/s320/blogger-image-1657803191.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I've had model exam's going on this week, but the cover of "God Is A Gamer" by Ravi Subramanian was enticing enough, that I picked it up over my electronic devices text book, and managed to finish it in about two days. It only took me <i>that</i> long, because eventually, the electronic devices text book guilt tripped me back into doing a little bit of studying as well. But, I'll tell you this much. It was <i>pretty hard</i> to put this novel down once I got going.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not even my electronic devices paper.</td></tr>
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The narration takes you to various parts of the world, through seemingly unrelated stories of seemingly unrelated characters. You witness a well orchestrated assassination of a US senator. The FBI launches an Investigation. A wealthy business man runs a successful BPO and novel gaming company in Mumbai, alongside his brooding right hand man, who seems to be having a mid life crisis. Someone pulls off a heist of 5 million dollars. There's office politics at a multinational bank. Then, there's the young couple that falls too fast and too hard in love. We even get a glimpse of the seedy underbelly of Indian national politics in this fictional roller coaster ride. You just keep reading, trying to connect the dots. And eventually the connections happen and the characters begin to relate with each other and meet, and the story seems to start falling into place. Notice that I only said "seems". The plot always remains unpredictable on a certain level, much like the virtual world of currency, bitcoins, which also figures into the plot. This unpredictability may be because the author takes great care to make sure you never get too close to figuring out any of the characters. He lets you in on their emotions and frustrations, which reveals just the right bit. He steers clear of giving you complete character sketches. And he cleverly riddles the plot in a slew of business stats, corporate jargon, and monotone subjective descriptions. Initially, I wondered if it was the best idea to narrate the story, instead of letting the protagonists and characters talk, because I've always believed that the characters and the plot itself, comes alive when you let them talk, but then soon, I realized this was indeed the right call, the dry narrative is really a guise to hide the motives and the plot points. It's what makes it tick, and keep you turning the pages, on your toes, waiting for answers.<br />
"Is revenge a crime?", The cover asks you.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that must be avenged.</td></tr>
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You wonder whose revenge it is. Who is responsible for all this? Does the brooding Sundeep have a darker side? Did Swami's self righteousness and anger turn him into an evil master mind? Is Tanya really just a conniving bitch? I found it really suspicious that just as the mysterious 'Altoids' responded to the FBI (failing to realize, it was the FBI) saying he/she was willing to get in touch to find out how to retrieve the missing alpha numeric in the bitcoin key, Tanya decided to log onto the Internet using Aditya's WiFi while waiting for Varun to take her to dinner. Very Subtle. Even Aditya seems too clean with all his moral beliefs to be just another wealthy, intelligent business man. Does he have more sinister ulterior motives? We've been trained to suspect charming men in suits, and politicians. What's with the finance minister anyway?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NO ONE.</td></tr>
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Except maybe Varun, cause, who can resist the charming sweet energetic young guy on a mission to turn his dads gaming company the best in the world? Or is that the <i>only</i> mission he's on?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's be real. I'm Paranoid.</td></tr>
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All we're really sure about is that someone pulled the linchpin, and now the dominoes just won't stop falling. And one by one, they will all fall.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whatever it is, one of them is getting served, and its cold.</td></tr>
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Another thing, about this book, that I really enjoyed, is that unlike most other thrillers, this isn't just yet another quest for justice. It's simple, reckless, revenge. Someone has to pay. And pawns may be sacrificed in the process; it's a deadly game they play. And you're kept guessing until the very last chapter, where Ravi Subramanian brilliantly builds a case, has you believe You know and have all the answers and then throws in one final <a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/01/spying-on-humanoids.html" target="_blank">plot twist</a> to have you question everything you thought you figured out. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh my. Did you see that coming?</td></tr>
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At the end of the day, if you look hard enough, you might be able to poke loopholes, and you can question the morality behind all of this, but it is a good book, a gripping thriller, which is exactly what it claims to be. This was my first Ravi Subramnaian novel, and I will be going out to get the others very soon. Will I recommend it to a friend? Yes. Definitely, Priced at ₹299 (available for cheaper on flipkart), it is probably one of the best Indian Page turners I've read in a while. </div>
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P.S:<a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/10/books-and-i-definitely-best-love-story.html" target="_blank"> I'd like to thank blogadda.com again for sending me this amazing book! </a>:) </div>
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This review is a part of the biggest <a href="http://blog.blogadda.com/2011/05/04/indian-bloggers-book-reviews" target="_blank"> Book Review Program </a> for <a href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">Indian Bloggers.</a> Participate now to get free books!</div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Have you read "God Is A Gamer" by Ravi Subramanian? Do you agree with my review? What did you think of the book? do you like thrillers? Let me know in the comments below. </span></i></b><br />
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-1272707219093096572014-10-30T12:40:00.002-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.436-08:00Books and I - Definitely the best love story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This little place on the internet has become a church of sorts, what with all the confessing I do here. I told you about how<a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/10/this-post-is-to-say-that-im-not-giving.html" target="_blank"> I <i>might</i> just be stalking you</a>, I even told you <a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/10/diwali-are-fireworks-really-evil-or-are.htm" target="_blank">I was manipulative <i>and</i> evil</a>. So in order to keep the tradition alive, I'm back with yet another confession, except of course, this is probably far less scandalous. I was that kid who hid a novel in her text book to read in class, (I got caught too. Plenty of times. Obviously, I'm not as sneaky as I'd like you to believe I am. Stealth mode, definitely not one of my strongest suits. But that's besides the point, I was that kid who spent the entire night, up, reading with the light from my phone, before I discovered eBooks. You know how, when you're in the tenth grade or the 12th grade in this country and your parents decide to pack up your TV and dump it in the attic, so that you could <i>concentrate</i> on your studies? Yeah, My parents bought one of those new big screen TV's that were all the rage back then, <i>and</i> refused to let me renew my library membership. Yeah, I was that kid. And that kid resurfaces whenever she gets the chance.<br />
To compensate for the easy confession, I give you this. Very awkward photographic evidence of that kid. At 5 years old. In the natural habitat.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice how I look so distracted, Yes, that is just how happy I am. Extremely.</td></tr>
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Books are my home. My haven. My <i>heaven</i>. They were there for me when humanity was just too much to deal with. When I was in a happy place, When I was in a sad place. It didn't matter. Fiction was always there. Books were my addiction, When reality became too much and too dull to bear, I had a way out, Fiction. I lived the protagonists life, in a different world, in a different place, in a different dimension of time and space, I lived it out, and then <i>that </i>fixed me. The adrenaline, the adventure and just that rush that comes from reading, at a stretch, of escaping your own boring, dull, sometimes even depressing and dark life and<i> knowing</i> that you may never really face the kind of mystery, magic, and macabre that you just lived, but <i>knowing, Knowing in your heart, </i>that you did just live all that, and you lived it to the fullest. That is what books are to me, a drug.<br />
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The only thing that could possibly be better than books, was <i><b>free</b></i> books, and hence I naturally applied to be a part of the book review program on blogadda.com, a couple of weeks ago. And I guess they figured that I was that kid who pitched up a small tent for herself and lived at the local library on summers, because they sent me an email saying I had been shortlisted!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So, Then I went ahead and did exactly this.</td></tr>
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In the email, they told me that I had been selected to review "God Is A Gamer" by Ravi Subramanian and that I would receive the book shortly. I'm pretty sure they instantly regretted sending me this email, because then I got anxious and proceeded to thoroughly stalk and spam them until my shipment finally arrived last Friday.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then, Obviously, I did this. You get the idea.</td></tr>
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Did I mention?? IT'S A SIGNED COPY TOO!!!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ2rF8ONu4CNFz2dqiJfgALwKc3xbFOOPfC-_xd50IEizHxtBryqYUwWMaxyBoR6JLD5Y95EcZYB9W6S0lyfKjFHu8GPJH43kQyT88WQeYXhkyxTqLXF0-3DIvvL4bLksVnGfCcORMpUg/s640/blogger-image-2060799995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ2rF8ONu4CNFz2dqiJfgALwKc3xbFOOPfC-_xd50IEizHxtBryqYUwWMaxyBoR6JLD5Y95EcZYB9W6S0lyfKjFHu8GPJH43kQyT88WQeYXhkyxTqLXF0-3DIvvL4bLksVnGfCcORMpUg/s320/blogger-image-2060799995.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was grinning, A little creepily.</td></tr>
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So, In the next, post, Which I plan to put up later tonight or early tomorrow, You can read my review of "God Is A Gamer" by Ravi subramanian,because I finished it days ago, and have been dying to write this and put it up, what with all the exams at college. But the wait is over now!!!<br />
<a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/10/book-review-god-is-gamer-by-ravi.html" target="_blank">click here to read my book review.</a><br />
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<i>P.s: I'd like to thank blogadda for this and for putting up with my extreme level of anxious stalking</i>.<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Are you a reader? What is your one addiction? Were you able to relate to the thrill that comes with reading that I talked about? or are you that kid who always fell asleep when he touched a book, and secretly believes that the world has conspired against you and secretly sprayed every book with chloroform? Let me know in the comments below!</span></i></b></div>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-61424065079646109152014-10-22T10:30:00.002-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.620-08:00Diwali - Are Fireworks Really Evil? Or Are They Just Misunderstood?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I have already <a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/p/about.html" target="_blank">confessed to being an evil manipulative genius</a>, probably second to only Dr. Heinz doofenshmirtz. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090201151500/phineasandferb/images/4/4a/Doofenshmirtz_sings_Impress_My_Professor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img alt="world domination and curse you perry the platypus" border="0" src="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090201151500/phineasandferb/images/4/4a/Doofenshmirtz_sings_Impress_My_Professor.jpg" height="179" title="and I shall take over the world!" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This guy. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> If you know me at all, you know that I have already dutifully polluted the environment today with all my Diwali fireworks and am writing this post while taking a break from my exhausting evil life. So staying true to my character, I'm going to write this post about Diwali and fireworks because I know it's going to attract a lot of traffic to the blog, and then I'm going to try and <strike>brainwash</strike> convince you to burst crackers and fireworks, because I have literally decided to play devil's advocate. In this case, I will represent <strike>narakasura</strike> the evil henchmen who created fireworks in 7th century china. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> One reason people give me for not bursting fireworks this Diwali, is because they think it's a waste of money, they claim that spending your money on fireworks is nothing short of actually visually seeing your money go up in flames and leave a pile of smouldering ash and smoke behind. If you are one of these people, I have nothing to say to you except, "but it looks so pretty, and burning your money never looked this good". Besides, think of all the <strike>people</strike> stuff you can <b style="font-style: italic;">accidentally </b>set on fire<b style="font-style: italic;">. </b>You know your friend who buys terrible clothes and tells you it looks better on, well today is your day, You can finally burn down her entire wardrobe and claim that when she said it looked better on, You thought she meant <i><b>on fire</b></i>. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/000/043/disaster-girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/000/043/disaster-girl.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">BURN.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Another excuse I've been hearing, is that apparently, fireworks were never really the tradition of Diwali, that lighting diyas were the original tradition and fireworks were just the evil that originated in 7th century China that has been thrust upon us by evil manipulative <strike>business men</strike> henchmen. And here's my answer to that. So what if it's not our culture? We have begun to accept the idea of many western holidays, even valentine's day. 4th of july celebrations in the US involve pyrotechnic shows. Plenty of other countries have similar festivals of light or involve the usage of fireworks in various celebrations. Besides, fireworks and pyrotechnics are a hell lot more fun than lighting diyas! And Diwali is our Festival of Lights, so why not adapt? Loosen up. Celebrate. Especially since it has already become a tradition of sorts. You can't deny that you laughed and enjoyed the pyrotechnics as a kid, it's what made Diwali so special. It's why it was your favourite festival. so why take that joy away from your kids, the future generations? Why be a hypocrite? </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://33.media.tumblr.com/3284b9ed0da6d2d56e3993d704ca931c/tumblr_mu3xdrhS1d1sp0oeqo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img alt="we're gonna let it burn!!" border="0" height="186" src="https://33.media.tumblr.com/3284b9ed0da6d2d56e3993d704ca931c/tumblr_mu3xdrhS1d1sp0oeqo1_500.gif" title="yeah, we got the fire fire fire..." width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cause we got the fire fire fire....</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Lastly, There are two very valid concerns that are pushing people to boycott fireworks altogether.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the first one is pollution. Let's begin with air pollution, shall we? We all know the major cause of air pollution in the world is vehicles and industries burning fossil fuels, Yet, we choose to ignore this and play environmentalist on one day, Diwali. and act all self righteous. Why don't we carpool with the colleagues we already can't stand to work with, during office hours, instead of taking our cars or bikes to work? Or ride our bicycles to work, Or walk (you get some cardio too. It's a win win. you don't even need to hit the gym). Or make use of the public transportation system. Also, quit smoking, because even that's air pollution. Did you know that the chlorofluorocarbons emitted by our AC's and refrigerators also do more harm to the environment. Get rid of those and then I will call you superman. Yes. Don't tell me you need your cars, because, the truth is, you don't. About a century ago, Cars didn't exist in India, and people still managed to live without them, you can too. Your car is really just a luxury, that you've grown accustomed to. Take up an ATP (alternative travel project) all through the year, and I promise you, you would have done far more for the world and the environment, than what you would achieve by going green on Diwali. Compensate. They say plant two trees for every tree you cut down. In much the same way, be environmentally conscious all through the year, enjoy diwali. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> As for concerns regarding noise pollution, don't buy explosive fireworks, or the ones that make too much noise, cause diwali is the festival of lights not loud noises anyway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm not trying to say Diwali doesn't cause pollution at all, or justify it, but in comparison to the day to day harm we bring to the environment, Diwali is relatively innocent. But Moderation is the key to everything. We try to minimise our usage of fossil fuels, we don't entirely stop burning fossil fuels, because that's not possible, that's irrational. but when it comes to fireworks, we are quick to radically boycott them altogether. This is not a practical solution. This brings me to the next reason that most people seem to cite. Sivakasi, the "fireworks capital" of our country is constantly plagued by safety problems and child labour, and people seem to believe it's just best to annihilate the industry entirely, and they seem to believe that the best way to go about this is by boycotting fireworks and going for a green Diwali. Everybody wins. Except that everybody doesn't win. Here's why, According to google, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: justify;">Sivakasi, in Tamil Nadu</span><span style="text-align: justify;">, </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: justify;">in southern India,</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: justify;"> produces more than 90% of India's fireworks and India is the second largest producer of fireworks in the world, next to China</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: justify;">.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 2em; text-align: justify;">The fireworks industry in Sivakasi is worth between Rs 800-1000 crore. The market for fireworks is likely to grow at the rate of 10% per annum. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 2em; text-align: justify;">There are nearly 450 fireworks factories giving direct employment to about 40,000 workers and about 1 lakh indirect such as paper tube making, wire cutting, box making in the </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 32px; text-align: justify;">countryside</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 2em; text-align: justify;">.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> If this industry were to completely shut down, It's significant contribution to the GDP of our country would go down, This in turn affects our economy. 1,40,000 people will be driven to unemployment, lose their livelihood, and their only chance of making even one square meal, a day. <a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/01/spying-on-humanoids.html" target="_blank">and we already have plenty of unemployment here</a>. Most people tell me that the money I spend buying fireworks will not go to some poor worker who spends all year, exposing himself to the toxic stuff that go into making these fireworks, but to the fat greedy people who run these factories. That I am just enabling child labour, bonded labour and nailing the final coffin in the safety problems issue by buying these fireworks. But I have a slightly different vantage point. It is child labour, It is bonded labour, these children don't get education, they are subjected to some serious health hazards by working in these factories, and it is absolutely inexcusable, but boycotting fireworks will not result in stopping these factories from employing children, nor will they be forced to shut down. In fact, shutting them down altogether isn't the best idea either. Picture this. Say about 40% of indians opt for a green diwali and do not burst any firecrackers. We have already established that the fat greedy men who run the firecracker industry are evil. So to compensate their loss, this is what they will do. they will fire about half their workforce. Now say about half of the unskilled labourers who get fired are able to find new odd jobs. The other half will starve to death. Then there are those lucky ones that don't get fired, they will get overworked and possibly paid even less. now they'd have to work in even worse conditions. and this outcome is really just wishful thinking, This isn't even the worst case scenario. Now if about 90% of indians were to boycott fireworks, this industry might be forced to shut down, because the exports from sivakasi is estimated to be less than 5%. But if it were to shut down we ought to provide alternate employment opportunities for these unskilled labourers. Sivakasi is largely an industrial town, there aren't a lot of agricultural plots or irrigation facilities, and these indigenous people of the firework industry aren't trained to be farmers or to work in any other industry. This is all they know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> But as I mentioned earlier, the ill treatment, child labour, bonded labour and unsafe working conditions are inexcusable. So what is the most viable solution to this issue? Ensure safer working conditions. Do not employ children. That is the most viable solution. China, <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">the world's biggest manufacturers (with an annual domestic and export market pegged at Rs 80,000 crore) of fireworks </span>does not face the same problems as India. Some Indian <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Manufacturers visit Chinese firework factories, buy their technologies and machines, and pay for their technicians to come to India and hold master classes.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"> </span>Technicians in china, hold diplomas and degrees in fireworks engineering whereas sadly, in India, we don't even have a R&D center for fireworks. We already have laws and regulations in place to ensure safer working conditions, And India does not endorse ill treatment of employees or child labour or bonded labour. The problem is that this is India, and nobody seems to be following these regulations. And the only way to fix this, is to fix this, Clean up the corruption that allows situations like this to breed. I'd like to believe that this should be a piece of cake for the country that successfully accomplished a mars mission with the cheapest budget in the world. While we're at it, We might even be able to develop eco friendly green crackers? They already do exist, but they don't seem to be very popular.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">India!! :D</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">P.S: It also seems to me that the price of fireworks have hiked up, and the quality has noticeably reduced too. About 5 out of 10 flower pots in my pack of flower pots exploded today.they're not the kind of fireworks that are supposed to explode. I need to know if you have been observing this too or if Karma is just a real bitch. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is Karma really out to get me?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">P.P.S: I was inspired to write this because I got into a<strike>n</strike> <strike>argument</strike> very passionate discussion (I promise, We didn't even bust a Caps Lock) about this with two well meaning sweet strangers on the internet who have recently become good friends of mine. They tried to save me, tried to convince me to go green, but the evil in me strung out. And here I am. They are probably going to be disappointed with this, But who cares. You guys are amazing. Thank you fab and Pika. You inspired me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">P.P.S.S: I didn't proof read this </span>because<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I'm so badass. </span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">What is your take on the fireworks dilemma? Did you go green? Or are you evil like me? Also let me know if your fireworks were as bad as mine. Cause if it that was really just karma, I'm going to be in for much worse, after I publish this. Let me know what you think in the comments below. Happy Diwali!! :D</span></i></b><br />
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-8693430920264267302014-10-17T05:01:00.001-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.718-08:00This Post Is To Say That I'm Not Giving Up On Us<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have a confessions to make.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I shall call it the stalkinator</td></tr>
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<a href="http://s3-ec.buzzfed.com/static/enhanced/webdr02/2013/7/22/20/anigif_enhanced-buzz-2341-1374538010-5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; text-align: left;"> I am a stalker. But I've found a perfectly good reason to justify my stalker behaviour. And the reason is love. Yes, let's blame everything on love. Because obviously love is to blame for Ebola and global warming as well. I love you people, my readers. And you just don't give up on that kind of love. That is why I'm stalking you now. Because, I love you.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't pretend like you don't do it.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> This is also why, I tirelessly urge you to follow me on blogger, follow me on bloglovin or subscribe to the email list, so that we may properly stalk each other, and so that you don't miss out on new posts. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="This picture is a pretty accurate representation of me trying to get people to subscribe to my blog" border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzs5hEG0w98MxTf0wBhCyjJWM8zUp90f-rbUsMhuzCcw9qMByX3kMyx_qDChygggPSGwMHj5I1bQThP9Z5uSt-Tq1L0YMjUHq6lDrgsIM9vKKzoabKK3sz0LailUA8-Wnfk8V79UX45ZD/s320/blogger-image--401734127.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="This picture is a pretty accurate representation of me trying to get people to subscribe to my blog" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minus the cuteness.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Yet many of you have still managed to efficiently evade my relentless stalking claiming that email is so ten years ago and nobody uses it anymore anyway except at work and for school. And that's only because those stuck up institution heads just won't switch to social networking. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And because I know and understand that many of you are just as lazy as I am and don't want to sign up for bloglovin, I have decided to bring junkwire to you. By means of magic, among other things. junkwire is now on the wonderland of social networking sites, Facebook! Here's a link to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/junkwire" target="_blank">new facebook page</a>! Told you I was a stalker. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/233df57ab703aed387c8ddb247be4fef/tumblr_mkfg050LN41rc3z3ro1_1280.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="You have to follow me" border="0" src="http://31.media.tumblr.com/233df57ab703aed387c8ddb247be4fef/tumblr_mkfg050LN41rc3z3ro1_1280.gif" height="180" title="You have to follow me" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now you have no excuse.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So Now go show some love and hit that like button, because I won't give up on us, until you all give in to my charming witty humour and incessant stalking.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NO. I won't.<br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">What social networking site are you a cheerleader of?!Facebook, Twitter, pinterest? Did you hear that orkut has pulled it's shutters? were you on orkut? Have you heard of orkut? What are your thoughts on social networking and stalking?? Let me know in the comments below!</span></b></i><br />
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-6009571806472341862014-10-06T12:43:00.001-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.570-08:00Homicidal Cows And How my family survived an angry mob of Indian villagers <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know this post sounds like something out of one of the gazillion final destination movies, but I'm not kidding. This actually happened. True story bro. This is what happens when cows jump over <strike>moons</strike> hedges in the middle of a highway. So if you're a cow and you're thinking about doing this, DON'T, because it's not funny and it isn't<i> just </i>suicidal, it's also homicidal. If you're someone who owns cows, please keep your cows in check. Cows with suicidal and homicidal tendencies aren't helping anyone. Unfortunately, I don't have proof that this happened. I asked the members of my family involved in this particular incident for photographic evidence but they claimed that they were kinda busy getting away with their lives and hence weren't able to document the events of that day for the blog. This was particularly disappointing because in my head I had already began photoshopping myself into these images. And my attempts to pilfer my uncle's car's insurance paperwork for you guys turned out futile cause he sold the car involved in this particular incident. But, You have my word. This happened.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGt9WUxLLl0mfltOG883V-SRFpG3AO8OemlcnE-i76WoOJmetN0mVKyxDo3ly1kIs3fkkok2E6AnwDC_BV3bxN4whKDOXX3oMorXwDied7SWxSTYc8RSrIgecuUKYRpEEmjb2uDFho_yWI/s1600/truestory.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGt9WUxLLl0mfltOG883V-SRFpG3AO8OemlcnE-i76WoOJmetN0mVKyxDo3ly1kIs3fkkok2E6AnwDC_BV3bxN4whKDOXX3oMorXwDied7SWxSTYc8RSrIgecuUKYRpEEmjb2uDFho_yWI/s1600/truestory.PNG" height="120" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It only happens in India.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md8lebjHOT1r527j2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="You have my word" border="0" src="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md8lebjHOT1r527j2.gif" height="168" title="" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the face of truth<br />
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Now, let's begin, shall we?<br />
A couple of years ago, somebody in the family had passed away. Phones were ringing incessantly, my family had to go to the funeral service. All the kids were busy. So were our mothers. We presumably had some exam going on. It was decided that all the men in the family would go, because it's not like they had anything to do. My dad, and my three uncles were happy enough to ditch work, and on they went. ROADTRIP.<br />
Somehow, Somebody thought it would be a good idea to let uncle no.2 who happened to be the fastest driver in the family to drive uncle no.1's car, a very gaudy black sedan, a Logan, on the National highway leading towards our hometown. Uncle no.1 swears that he wasn't dozing off in the front seat while uncle no.2 was driving. In fact he claims to have been shooting his brother, uncle no.1, dirty looks every time he tried to cross the speed limit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basically, This.</td></tr>
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But somehow, I'm convinced that all the passengers of the car probably dozed off, until.... Time slowed. and they rounded a blind turn just as said cow(s) jumped over a hedge that they were hiding behind (because uncle no.1 also claims that there were two cows) .Uncle no.2, who was driving, hit it. There was no stopping the car. Not at that last second, Not at that speed, and Certainly not on that highway, that last minute of time. They hit the cow, And this is exactly how they narrate the story...<br />
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"Thank god no.2 was driving fast enough, we hit the cow with so much momentum, it went up like twenty feet in the air and then landed behind the car. Had he not been driving that fast, the cow would have landed with a hell lotta momentum on the car, instead of behind it, positively crushing all of us to death, because that cow weighed like tonnes". </blockquote>
Always looking on the bright side, my family. Also, So sympathetic, I know. But that didn't necessarily mean that they got to walk away with their lives intact. This was India, and cows, here, on this side of the planet, homicidal or not, are considered sacred.<br />
Before my family had the time to snap out of it, or get out of the car for that matter, An angry mob of villagers stormed out of nowhere. Yes, with their pitch forks, sticks, stones and various other arsenal in tow. Uncle no.2, claims that some of them actually came from behind the bushes the cows were hiding behind...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.dispatchlive.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/mob1-448x260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.dispatchlive.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/mob1-448x260.jpg" height="185" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture is a pretty accurate approximation of what followed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dailyrevolution.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Simpsons-angry-mob-pitchfork-torches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://dailyrevolution.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Simpsons-angry-mob-pitchfork-torches.jpg" height="235" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How did they have time to get all those weapons, anyway?!</td></tr>
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There was no backing out, or reversing the car either. The angry mob had surrounded the car, and they began to hammer the car with their hands. My dad, being the smart and kind guy that he is, give that man a cookie, suggested that somebody call the blue cross, India's animal welfare society. Uncle no.4 quickly shot this idea down.</div>
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"The cow is dead, There's nothing the blue cross can do except maybe, arrest us. "</blockquote>
Something about this entire fiasco seemed very scammy. and suspicious. Like...<br />
1) Why would the cow jump out of those bushes, on to the highway right into the path of a speeding car?!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">odd.. very, very, odd.</td></tr>
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2) How did they get all those weapons and get here so damn quick?!<br />
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Unfortunately, they didn't have time to ask each other these questions. They had one goal. And that was to Survive. and the villagers were like..</div>
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give us money for killing our goddess cow and you can go.</div>
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And my family was like....</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that is how they got out of there.</td></tr>
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<br />They paid the angry mob of villagers in return for their freedom. And managed to survive.<a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/04/3-steps-to-kick-someone-ass-and-not.html" target="_blank"> Other ways they could have survived here...</a><br />
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Here comes the best part though, uncle no.1 who owned the Logan tried to claim road accident insurance on the car. And get this, The insurance company not only paid to fix the car, but also informed him that his was the fourth car they'd seen that month in a case of homicidal cows on the highway. This group had purposely pushed the poor old cow onto the road to scam car drivers into paying them. that's why they were out with their arsenal so fast. something about this did seem suspicious all along. It was all premeditated, it wasn't a case of homicidal cows at all. It was a case of cow homicide. it was murder. </div>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">What is the freakiest accident you've been involved in?? What would you have done in if an angry mob surrounded you?? What is the most brutal case of animal cruelty you've witnessed?? ?Have you ever been conned in a completely unexpected way, at a seemingly unassuming place?? Let me know in the comments below.</span></b></i></div>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-86511962342937244182014-08-31T07:30:00.000-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.694-08:00The Woes of a Delinquent Overachiever - Our Education System<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Utopia, that is what I dream about, I'm a dreamer.and in the light of independence day and India on the verge of Modi-fixation, I figured this might be a good time to post something I wrote as a frustrated high schooler. Last year. Of course it required plenty of editing. And almost isn't what it started out as, But that's okay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> If there's anything this education system has taught me, it is the meaning of the refrain in Paul Lawrence Dunbar's,"sympathy"...,"I know what the caged bird feels". Of course the poem has to do with slavery and all that, and I'm not a slave and neither am I stupid, but how I understand it? it could be extrapolated by integration. its got to do with being limited, to be stopped by the ropes of institution and authority. Because in reality thats where the limits are drawn, most definitely, by a very certain someone.and whoever said the sky is 'the limit lied'. I would like to say that this person lied because the limit is beyond the sky, or rather that there's no limit at all, but if I said that I'd be lying, and I might be a lot of things, but a liar is not something that you'd find on my résumé, it's actually much shorter than that. Than the sky, that limit. There appear to be limits to what you can do, and achieve because it turns out you are not in complete control of everything in your life. and this scares me, because I'm a control freak. some of your life is actually controlled by governments and societies and systems and all that is around you because even though you don't believe in politics or give a damn about the system, the system is affecting you. It believes in you. But it probably doesn't give a damn about you either. The truth is, I never liked that poem. Mostly because it felt way too real to me. And that was the hardest , scariest part, that I seemed to understand it and even relate to it on a certain level. I refuse rote learning. I refuse to be a nematode worm. There is nothing practical about a practical exam, and nobody cares what your project is really about. everybody is busy with bringing your confidence to sub zero levels. You are useless to the world. That's the simple truth they keep reiterating upon. and it is the truth,isn't it? fresh out of college, how many graduates really make it? How many of us even make it to college, really? Going through the education system was not pleasant. I was an enthusiastic enough three year old when I started school, but education clipped my wings and when I came out I felt like it was a miracle I had survived. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZ_Wg0oRUA2Zo0dI7XrKAt8H7nUiVuCbLwfL8INUuF0H2sH3t8R4uU4QnkXs1bLI56H5TdPMpHrsglHqwZW4Jqn4gDpFSlzCAi1u1Oqe7ukkZ3yuURwNbaaLyBN4-a3AyTTnnxP4sUeoW/s640/blogger-image-1504850495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZ_Wg0oRUA2Zo0dI7XrKAt8H7nUiVuCbLwfL8INUuF0H2sH3t8R4uU4QnkXs1bLI56H5TdPMpHrsglHqwZW4Jqn4gDpFSlzCAi1u1Oqe7ukkZ3yuURwNbaaLyBN4-a3AyTTnnxP4sUeoW/s640/blogger-image-1504850495.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Unfortunately, They would never let us leave.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> And I felt like the whole system was rigged against me. Rigged to blow up in my face. I began doubting myself, and a full year after finishing high school,and starting college, I still can't shake the insecurities. Am I really unworthy or is the system just seriously rigged against me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am sick of the corrupt politics here. And I yearn change. in the name of a "reservation system for the backward/scheduled castes and tribes", this country dismantles the entire idea of getting these people to fit back into the society, which was why this system was initially adopted. Don't believe me? thats fine. did you know that Gandhi, yes, the father of this nation, was against the reservation system? Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Ambedkar had a massive brawl over this reservation system. Gandhi believed that this system would only serve to further isolate these so called backward communities. In his opinion, it wasn't going to help change anything for the better just cause you decide to be polite and decent and start referring to these communities as backward castes in parliamentary correct terms, instead of calling them Dalits or the untouchables. But, Dr. Ambedhkar argued Gandhi on this, he claimed that without economical and social support from the government, these classes would never be able to integrate themselves back into the rest of the society. They'd just get continually ill treated. And hence they settled it with a good old fashioned duel. Not. Just kidding. They compromised. This was called the Poona pact. Yes, I paid attention in history class y'all. And after long negotiations, I don't want to bore you with the details, it was agreed that the reservation system would indeed be adopted. But only for about 10 years. but this system is in fact still very much in order, 68 years after India's independence. Outstayed its welcome, hasn't it? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This would come to mean that there would be a special reservation for members belonging to these so called backward castes everywhere, in the college admission process for government aided institutions , for government jobs, for seats in the parliament itself, you name it. Their community would give them a discounted ticket or even a free pass depending on how backward the community is considered to be, to an education, a job, a future. While the Rest of their forward caste peers would be robbed off the opportunities that they deserve. If you are a member of a forward caste and you'd like to become a doctor, you'd have to pay through your nose even if you scored 98%, there's even a pretty good chance you won't even get in through merit at all. But if you belong to a backward caste or a scheduled caste or tribe, depending on how backward your community is considered to be, you might even get a full scholarship on med school, even if you only scored about 60% in your final high school exams. Your economic background is completely irrelevant to this. Your peer who belongs to a so called backward community whose parents are also millionaires will have an edge over you. because he/she was born in a backward community or a scheduled tribe. If you still believe this reservation system is in fact necessary, why not change it and have the reservations for economically backward sectors of society instead? At least that way you would actually be helping a poor child who can't afford college education secure it. and people who don't need reservation due to their financial independence and liberty wouldn't be able to take advantages of the loophole in this system just because they were born in a particular community. we already have different ration cards that segregate citizens into those below poverty line and above poverty line, etc, so why not change the reservation system to be based on the economic status of a citizen instead. Because isn't this community/caste based reservation system really just providing privileges by birth? how is it any better than the special privileges entitled to members of the clergy and nobility in france before the French Revolution. How is that secular? what makes it okay to call ourselves a secular state even while we still endorse this system? whatever happened to democracy and equal rights for all? </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiz3TODtd6fyehgqVrfHL_r955n04rbqGHPRsVN-jDcN06m0T8iQdSkTVfhfdyDx5LjOH21UkqfiKRS4lEOP9MxbFx-6dOZWtr3X6CGCUc59T21HTi6XjWrzVz83arRBDvNo3I5qg948jz/s640/blogger-image-851860345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiz3TODtd6fyehgqVrfHL_r955n04rbqGHPRsVN-jDcN06m0T8iQdSkTVfhfdyDx5LjOH21UkqfiKRS4lEOP9MxbFx-6dOZWtr3X6CGCUc59T21HTi6XjWrzVz83arRBDvNo3I5qg948jz/s640/blogger-image-851860345.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">This perfectly describes what I was feeling as I learnt all of this and asked myself all these important questions that the teacher couldn't answer.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To one up this reservation system, we have multiple boards of education here in India. We have the various state boards and we have the central board of secondary education and the ICSE board, and it is commonly agreed that all of these have varying standards, and levels of difficulty, and yet most Indian colleges don't care what board you studied in or how much harder it was for you than the next person, they don't care about your story, your life, or your purpose, they don't care if you are a well rounded, multi faceted personality, they don't care about your co-curricular or extracurricular achievements, although most do have a small sports quota. They don't care if you come from an economically weak, forward caste household and can't afford to pay millions on an education. All they care about is your cut off marks. Marks, which a person who studied in a relatively easier to score, board of education might have got more easily. Universities here don't even offer part time work or scholarships that are not based on marks or community. everything about this system felt futile.outright stupid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I was going to have it blow up in my face. And it did. Blow up in my face. It actually made me cry. I don't cry very easily. You'd see me sweat and bleed before you'd see the tears. But I cried. I cried over how the system was rigged against me, Even before I faced my 12th boards. because I knew there was no getting away from this scot free. I knew I was going to get bruised and battered. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiup0QIrhpoxAW-_SEwxhs7o_iCgCb_EQMLWveE_zY2C0t16bG0R2iMUMX6lfmSvWYqXYaHEFarMZCEPSTQDLGo61v6RQo6BaivJmkC_eGabHsExGYbb_JW7Ukrb6hZVetqgGZQbCRqprV7/s640/blogger-image--1611561947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiup0QIrhpoxAW-_SEwxhs7o_iCgCb_EQMLWveE_zY2C0t16bG0R2iMUMX6lfmSvWYqXYaHEFarMZCEPSTQDLGo61v6RQo6BaivJmkC_eGabHsExGYbb_JW7Ukrb6hZVetqgGZQbCRqprV7/s640/blogger-image--1611561947.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> In the end, I gave it my best shot. I studied in a school affiliated to the CBSE, a board considered to be relatively tougher than the state boards, I belonged to a forward community, I was a well rounded student who had absolutely nothing going for her. except for my wish to succeed. I wasn't even sure about what i wanted to do in college. I hadn't figured out things that far ahead. I was a just-a-little-above-average student who just knew that she was sick of being that person. All I'd figured out was that, I wanted to do something extraordinary, something that says I was here. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly having much figured out. But before I gave this situation any more thought, the big exams came around, and I made an overall score of 86.4%. I am proud of that, but my cut off marks weren't even close to good enough in the system to get into any dream school. and nobody cared that I could play the keyboard or that I was on the organising committee for a lot of different events at school. I had been living a life of lies and false achievement...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I wasn't going to get into any good schools without a little monetary aid from my parents. And that's what got me through the final push and shove. That's how I survived. And the education system does not help you in the slightest way to figure out what you'd like to with your life either. There's no career day at school, you have no first hand experience, or even information about off beat and not so regular career choices. There's no test drive. You just get on, gear up and hope to survive. And like many other Indian kids who have no idea what to do with their life, I picked engineering. Mostly because I was curious. I wanted to see what all the excitement was about. That's one of the reasons I picked engineering. The other was that I'd heard of plenty of people who'd studied it only to end up doing completely unrelated things in their life and even succeeding at it. I figured engineering would give me some time to realise what I really wanted to. And that's what I'm doing now. On surviving high school, I am surviving college, still waiting, wanting to do something extraordinary that says I was here.<a href="http://junkwire.blogspot.in/2014/01/spying-on-humanoids.html" target="_blank"> And the college system isn't proving to be very different in comparison to the school system. </a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Our education system is not teaching us moral values. It's not even career centered. I is syllabus oriented. It is all about learning a syllabus that we'll forget in the next few years. They say Education is what remains when you've forgotten everything you studied for the exams. because Education is about what you learn and what you discover, It is not about what you study. The previous governments have preferred to breed dull uneducated subjects that are content with election time freebies and rarely question its so called long term goals. All ideas borrowed, from the parliamentary form of government of Britain, which has been slightly altered to ensure chaos by adding a multiparty system, it's all just been inefficient. Inadequate. what our country requires is change, change and innovation. innovations are hardly ever welcomed and suggestion boxes, if they do still in fact exist,are never to be opened, because this is the real world. and I was tired, frustrated and angry, writing parts of this from a room 10 X 4, of a renowned coaching institute that's supposed to help you ace entrance tests to Indian colleges, a room fondly referred to by its proud students as the worlds biggest library which is in fact what the board in front of the room says. Not that its the worlds biggest, Just library. That was over a year ago. Initially, I didn't want to post this, and that is why, this has been a draft for over a year. Because I didn't want to crib and sound excessively negative. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVV3xlfUHXU1WiiJra380R1cHZfSuGgir426O_54ElKLByi9DXXbMMNkSYHcQ0CLGEK0xSl13qP7bFTCQkzqkBq-bfuZroEhBT0cfsBatcroWJrNPG4-cPVjLOOs0yQ5L2ZahmSb9Uc_JA/s640/blogger-image-1207243778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVV3xlfUHXU1WiiJra380R1cHZfSuGgir426O_54ElKLByi9DXXbMMNkSYHcQ0CLGEK0xSl13qP7bFTCQkzqkBq-bfuZroEhBT0cfsBatcroWJrNPG4-cPVjLOOs0yQ5L2ZahmSb9Uc_JA/s640/blogger-image-1207243778.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> But this has been bothering me for oh so long, that it had to come out. and I try my best to be an optimist about this and most other things, but unless we complain, talk, debate and discuss these things, They don't change, and here's hoping this does change, because it definitely needs to be MODIfied. Pun intended. Peace out. And to keep things on a positive note, I am going to leave you with these two songs. Because music is positive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/m326LNIRB3k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How am I gonna be an optimist about this? I keep asking myself this everyday. And I keep struggling. and fighting because even though the system isn't making my life any easier, Its not completely to blame. I choose where my sweat and my blood will go, my hands, I'm accounted for. And some things are worth fighting for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">P.s: I'm sorry that this wasn't exactly very funny. But I had to get my woes about the system out of my system. get it? Never mind. That wasn't really funny either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>What do you think about our education system? What do you tell yourself everyday to stay positive? What do you think needs to change about the world? Did you like the music? what music inspires you? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.Also, If you were able to relate to his post, Please do share it.</i></span></div>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-25435134999212178992014-04-14T04:04:00.001-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.485-08:003 STEPS to kick someone's ass and not mess up your hair while you're at it<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">DISCLAIMER:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> if you want to fight a real person who doesn't have Parkinson's disease and you want to WIN this fight, or even survive it, I suggest you quit reading this and take a self defense class with an instructor who knows what he or she's talking about. Because to be honest, the only thing that I've got a black belt in, is shopping. And I have the T-shirt to prove it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDlpBvsHIhDhoXHShno30CGyy_ix0L2pSp2hk67dy7kxYD-XRLUFn7psmayJXoyIc5lKPW-IenHu7b8bXINUStj1QcfY8-nKi9znEziU6Bzoa2M2RDEnmnjqa8dhS3uPjd2OtA0YNYypg/s640/blogger-image-947827153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="Black-Belt-In-Shopping" border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDlpBvsHIhDhoXHShno30CGyy_ix0L2pSp2hk67dy7kxYD-XRLUFn7psmayJXoyIc5lKPW-IenHu7b8bXINUStj1QcfY8-nKi9znEziU6Bzoa2M2RDEnmnjqa8dhS3uPjd2OtA0YNYypg/s200/blogger-image-947827153.jpg" title="Cool, Huh?" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">THE ACTUAL POST:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Violence is never the answer, unless the question is how do we survive the zombie apocalypse. If that is the question, then violence IS the answer. we fight, for real. we kick zombie ass. that's how we survive.</span><br />
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<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/cdc4d602d4ace884f801fe12031bcf3e/tumblr_mudew2yEj81s3zkl4o1_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="I'm-Katherine-Pierce.-I'm-a--survivor." border="0" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/cdc4d602d4ace884f801fe12031bcf3e/tumblr_mudew2yEj81s3zkl4o1_250.gif" title="and We're going to learn how to outlive her, and perhaps even voldemort." /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> And in this blog post I've graciously decided to take a page out of the Katherine Pierce secret handbook of dirty fighting and teach you guys how to outlive the zombie apocalypse. oh, what is that? you don't believe in the zombie apocalypse? well, its going to happen...and when it does....</span><br />
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<a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lznckfWxUx1qdz7llo6_r2_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="I'll-be-the-safest-psychotic-bitch-in-town." border="0" src="http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lznckfWxUx1qdz7llo6_r2_250.gif" title="Because better be safe than sorry, right?" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> So taking the off chance that you're going to completely ignore my statutory warning in the disclaimer and try to fight someone with decent neurotic coordination on reading this, don't do that.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Rja21WL4rj7LXTR3_xcK30Rl7qpfIqbBebgFlMXT2mOeXIz64oaTdtYYjlbuIMgPptoXnzA7SSD75wg-H7OeTSrMLDJnpUnXilhSgN4B0aKOYhk68eE4dJ6s_gC24j3GambS0GEyhkE-/s640/tumblr_mkqtylVQGt1rr0ahso1_500_large.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="Are-you-really-that-dumb-or-just-naturally-blonde?" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Rja21WL4rj7LXTR3_xcK30Rl7qpfIqbBebgFlMXT2mOeXIz64oaTdtYYjlbuIMgPptoXnzA7SSD75wg-H7OeTSrMLDJnpUnXilhSgN4B0aKOYhk68eE4dJ6s_gC24j3GambS0GEyhkE-/s640/tumblr_mkqtylVQGt1rr0ahso1_500_large.gif" height="163" title="Not that I have anything against blonde people. :P" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> That's a really dumb idea. instead, coming from the nation that invented the idea of ahimsa, I suggest that you calm yourselves, debate and discuss the different ways you could work this out. or just talk your way out of the situation, whichever works best for you. Because the best fights are the ones we walk away from. so chill out, and Attain inner peace. Yep, I'm channeling my inner Gandhi. Or Master Oogway. Not sure who. </span></div>
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<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md7upgp4l41rndas0o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="how-about-you-and-I-have-a-little-chat" border="0" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md7upgp4l41rndas0o1_500.gif" height="145" title="Yup. We need to talk. Comments. Stat." width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> But sometimes, some people just don't listen, they can't hear you, until you're fist makes strong contact with their facial muscles. That'll wipe that stupid grin off their faces. But , this post is purely for self defense purposes only. seriously though. self defense only.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://tvrecappersanonymous.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/3-10-klaus-best-respond-to-violence-westhalder.gif?w=500&h=244" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://tvrecappersanonymous.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/3-10-klaus-best-respond-to-violence-westhalder.gif?w=500&h=244" height="156" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> so if you need to defend yourself because a zombie is coming at you, because that's totally likely, speed, agility and surprise are your best weapons. lets be professional about this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Goals:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#1 don't mess up your hair. you put lots of work into those curls this morning</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#2 keep the fight under 6 seconds. move fast.you don't want to waste too much of your time beating up these losers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#3 survive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">so, without further ado, i'll dive straight in to it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">cue *drum roll*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Strategic Plan A</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">STEP #1: attack when they least expect it. surprise the target with a solid punch straight to the nose while target is still talking or while said target is distracted. Nose cartilage breaks easy. attempt to break target's nose. Do as much damage as you possibly can with just this one first blow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">STEP #1 Successful: Target is now in a trance. Target is touching his or her injured, bleeding, broken nose in shock and mumbling incomprehensibly what sounds like "you actually broke my nose". This is good, this means target does not have a very high IQ. A smarter and potentially more dangerous target would be tipping his or her head backwards to stop the bleeding. or punching you back</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">STEP #2: while target is busy nursing the broken nose, right uppercut the neck. I've heard punching someone in the neck works too. or go for the weak spots in the body. The human wrist only bends 180 degrees, 90 degrees up and 90 degrees down, bend it back further. Also,The human knees only bend forward. Grab both of targets arms at the elbow, and twist it behind their backs at a painful angle.Math hurts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Step #2 Successful: Target is in tremendous pain. Target is screaming in agony. the fight is almost over. level complete - 98%. And you're winning. Play the cards right and you'll make it out, alive. with all your pride and glory intact.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Step #3: Still holding Target's elbows pinned behind their backs, lean in close, and whisper a punchline into targets ears. I personally prefer , "The next time i run into you, its going to be with a car." </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://data2.whicdn.com/images/43944223/large.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="we-both-know-I-could-rip-your-head-off-and-do-my-nails-at-the-same-time" border="0" src="http://data2.whicdn.com/images/43944223/large.gif" height="177" title="Yes, We Know. Katherine. " width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">or this.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lastly, kick out target's knees from behind them and aggressively shove the small of said target's back, so that target may fall flat with his or her face on the floor.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.killingtime.com/Pegu/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Kate-Becket-Gun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="This-is-even-good-police-protocol-and-procedure.-don't-believe-me?-Ask-beckett." border="0" src="http://www.killingtime.com/Pegu/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Kate-Becket-Gun.jpg" height="200" title="Beckett style. " width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finally, turn around and walk away real fast, holding your head up high in pride,while still basking in your rare moment of glory. Do NOT give any time for target to snap out of said trance and retaliate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Now, I am aware of the many loopholes, flaws and technical shortcomings of strategic plan A. like maybe you aren't fighting your everyday, run of the mill, zombie. Maybe this zombie has an IQ that is a couple of notches higher up on the rotten brain scale than your average mutant.</span><br />
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<a href="http://data3.whicdn.com/images/59647282/large.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="do-you-honestly-believe-that-I-don't-have-a-plan-B?" border="0" src="http://data3.whicdn.com/images/59647282/large.gif" height="160" title="Planning is of prime importance, you guys." width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For those of you who have poor hindsight, and those of you with terrible judgement who decide to try my strategies out in real life combat, because I love you guys, I give you Plan B, with some added tweaks, tips and tricks. If target is proving to be smarter than you originally gave him or her credit for, starts showing signs of fighting back and has not slipped into a trance, Do not be ashamed to Fight dirty, This is war. and you want to survive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">move #1 pull hair. if target has short hair, yank the short hairs on the back of the neck.real hard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">move#2 trip target up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">move#3 poke eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">move#4 bite.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">These should do the trick.But if you have terrible luck and Life is literally shooting lemons at you with a machine gun, and you have a whole horde of zombies descending upon you..</span></div>
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<a href="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131225015532/vampirediaries/images/9/9e/Alphabet.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="And-if-that-fails,-a-plan-C,then-a-plan-D-and...-you-know-how-the-alphabet-works,-don't-you?" border="0" src="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131225015532/vampirediaries/images/9/9e/Alphabet.gif" height="179" title="Many plans. many many plans. if you want to be an evil mastermind" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is time to switch to plan C: Speed, surprise and sarcasm are officially not enough to survive this.call in the cavalry and ask them to bring all the arsenal. Grab the nearest pick ax, pitch fork, sledge hammer, shovel, Swiss army knife, fat text book, make shift pencil stake, whatever other evil manifestation of stationary you might be able to get your hands on. Attack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Plan D: if you are short on arsenal, mutter a swear word under your breath and RUN. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm outta here.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess that got a little pathetic. but hey. nobody said dirty fighting was going to be pretty. But at the end of the day, It doesn't hurt to be prepared. plan in advance. move by move. Sherlock Holmes does it too.</span></div>
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<a href="http://stream1.gifsoup.com/webroot/animatedgifs7/2678448_o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="sherlock-way-plan-your-every-move" border="0" src="http://stream1.gifsoup.com/webroot/animatedgifs7/2678448_o.gif" title="Sherlock love, anyone? Also Robert Downey jr! OMG. <3" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So one of these days, someones going to piss me off, real bad, and its's going to be...game time.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9ulCJWnYmXKzMRLS_MP-NkyQdW4JTFH33iKUD0A5mwMqT1MqPxcpeTKUBeBrAolT-ovNPGNwI7tOkdSJx_tLw5Te_txQvkxFswDnWr3yBBDm2gr8P5GRltJhEPkmuMnjVz0WnLvkInBz/s1600/large+(1).gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="game on bitches" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9ulCJWnYmXKzMRLS_MP-NkyQdW4JTFH33iKUD0A5mwMqT1MqPxcpeTKUBeBrAolT-ovNPGNwI7tOkdSJx_tLw5Te_txQvkxFswDnWr3yBBDm2gr8P5GRltJhEPkmuMnjVz0WnLvkInBz/s1600/large+(1).gif" height="153" title="My Game face" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch out Bitches!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">End credits and <strike>writer's</strike> blogger's note: I was inspired to write this, because of a certain conversation i had with a rebellious friend of mine. So Thanks Arvind. And I've been hearing that this whole blogging thing works like a conversation and you guys are supposed to leave your thoughts in the comments section, for me to reply to. If you love my posts, let me know, it'll really inspire me to write more, Constructive criticism is welcome too. I'm super awkward and almost always late, But I'd love to hear your opinions. have you ever wanted to kick someone's ass real bad? What's your take on the Zombie apocalypse?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Other things(s) that need(s) to be discussed: Do any of you guys watch the vampire diaries?? Katherine pierce is mind blowing. She was my most favorite character on that entire show. they can't kill her.I'm still in denial. and I've stopped watching the show. but whats this I keep hearing about bringing her back in the next season *OMG. YES.excuse me while i hyperventilate * so, as you might have noticed, this whole article was sort of a tribute to her. with all the GIFs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I'm going to end this rant with a big hearty Thank you to all my readers, and one final little thing...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/233df57ab703aed387c8ddb247be4fef/tumblr_mkfg050LN41rc3z3ro1_1280.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img alt="You-have-to-follow-me" border="0" src="http://31.media.tumblr.com/233df57ab703aed387c8ddb247be4fef/tumblr_mkfg050LN41rc3z3ro1_1280.gif" height="180" title="unless you already do." width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">email, bloglovin, blogger,whatever you like best. :)</span></td></tr>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008402346724766635.post-60275050729218678582014-03-28T12:20:00.000-07:002018-12-28T09:13:12.594-08:00HAPPINESS among other lies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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HAPPINESS.</div>
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firstly, it's overrated.</div>
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Secondly, it simply doesn't exist.</div>
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i'm basing that second part on an extremely insightful quote from the novel shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. Also because me, you,(assuming you are positively human, that is), Angelina Jolie, your crazy neighbor's cousin's best friend's psychotic twin, Chris Martin and superstar rajnikant, ( if you don't know who that is, Google him ), all fall under the same dissatisfied, grumpy species, 'Homo sapiens sapiens.' Robert Downey Jr is an exception. :) But being human is only the secondary reason, getting back to my literary example,<br />
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"happiness is a myth. It was invented to make us buy new things."</blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHva6Q9hKuxQ8dsh5x_oe5IkgWUmlyI_sD4CZkJ09FPs37N1MdGD-sPP-Zf-m-gUOM-t3ZxHjCunLQhlb5fePVGA-Ih0qhmkyjA1S9ZZmtPEJ0soay1qvrFY98407P0dpAZlR9flLKFva/s1600/bigtv.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHva6Q9hKuxQ8dsh5x_oe5IkgWUmlyI_sD4CZkJ09FPs37N1MdGD-sPP-Zf-m-gUOM-t3ZxHjCunLQhlb5fePVGA-Ih0qhmkyjA1S9ZZmtPEJ0soay1qvrFY98407P0dpAZlR9flLKFva/s1600/bigtv.gif" height="203" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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There. That's the truth you're staring at. On your LCD High definition screen. With great resolution. We're all trying to be happy,we buy the next brand new shiny gadget we don't need and hope it fills our hollow hearts. We overindulge our hearts with that big box of chocolate ice cream. We actually buy those designer shoes with the cute silver bow because its on sale! Etc..We're people. And we believe these things'll make us happy.we couldn't be more wrong. why? well, isn't it obvious?! all the things i named above could be attributed to eating disorders, shopaholism, manias, phobias, maybe even obesity or diabetes in the near future. That is the most obvious answer I came up with. And the not so obvious answer would be, Happiness always appears to be around the corner,but when you get there...it's only a mirage. A mirage, I like to call 'pleasure'.</div>
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After a little bit of contemplation, I saw another perspective, something else we mistake for happiness. prosperity and/or promotion. let me explain that...spoiler alert! high school is going to suck almost as much as middle school, and life definitely doesn't get better either, oh yeah, its supposed to. college should be fun. but No. That is not gonna happen for you. And no, the universe has no toll free customer service lines for complaints because it certainly doesn't employ a small nation of call center employees who will 'thank you' for calling. No one wants to hear you crib. </div>
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And No.you're not going to be happy just because you got that new job, or because you just signed a record deal, or because you're going to get the Nobel peace prize, not even if you're on your way to become a movie star. Maybe we do this because we're taught to dream of materialistic goals and chase those dreams. But in reality we're only chasing our own tails if we equate achieving goals or prosperity with finding happiness. Why? Because we always have second thoughts.We hardly ever find happiness in achieving a materialistic goal or buying a fancy gizmo cause after the primary moment of joy, the congratulations and the well deserved pat on the back, that feeling of victory fades and gives way to the sEcOnD tHoUgHt, the "what next?!". and then we find something new to chase, all over again. In a tiresome full circle. What'd I tell you? Chasing tails...and yet, dogs have better lives, less complicated, fun, simple lives.you don't ever see one wearing a wrist watch, the words of Jerry Seinfeld, if I'm not wrong. Anyway, You guys ever heard these 'live fast', 'play hard' , die young' sort of mottoes? I believe in those. You know what I don't believe in? Riding off into the sunset happily ever after. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">LIES!! </span></td></tr>
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There's never been a more cliched phrase, in my opinion. Why must we go looking for happiness? Life is a canvas, and we're all artists. So what if that sounds a little too cliched and overused?? At least I didn't write life is a stage and plagiarize Shakespeare in my rant right?? Anyway, like i was saying we are artists, Trying to paint a story, so maybe we're not artists, we're writers. I confuse myself sometimes, okay, most times. but we're all hoping for a happy ending, a pretty picture. we want to be in control, but we're lost, alone, angry and afraid. Some of us, strengthened by passion fight those demons and find a way. The rest of us are clueless and conquered. life isn't fair, and this world isn't perfect, it may never be. and we don't always understand what's happening, but when that seems to be the case, take the swing and let it propel you.<br />
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You might not find true happiness, that's probably hidden way too deep for my liking, but you can always steal a little bit of joy, experience art, culture, music and food. Smile a little, and enjoy traveling, because its not about the destination, it's about the journey.</div>
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Take a timeout. Stop worrying. Read a book, and escape into the protagonists life. Take time to skim through the comic section in the newspaper. Slow down, enjoy food, remember what you had for dinner last night. Let music flood your senses, let culture consume you. Dance around a little. Skip the treadmill once in a while for the great outdoors. Don't race down. Paint a picture. Or just admire. Don't judge. Because when you aren't drowned out by worldly chaos, you experience life. I cannot promise you peace or satisfaction, but you'll live in the moment, the present,you'll be joyous, and maybe, just maybe, you might even be happy. :)</div>
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junkwirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14331283209687532642noreply@blogger.com2