Monthly Archives: July 2012

From the Land of Explosions

Standard

Whilst crossing through Iceland, her eye caught a strange fixture in several shops. High Quality Condom from the Land of Explosions, it proclaimed. The mere sight of this packet of contraceptives made her go all crazy compelling her to explode in closely-timed tiny explosions of silver and pink. Phut! Phut! Phut! Phut!, she went. Then she grabbed the next person with a rainbow on the head and was seized by a mad desire to break the ice with the whole universe all at the same time!

“I have said this before and I will say it again”, she gasped between smiles which made 17 muscles in her jaw hurt. “Iceland is a best country full of sexy clowns!”

“Tut, tut,” Ramdev spake from a country afar. “Didn’t I say sex-ed makes you wanna do it? This is sheer degradation of our women I say!”

“Nature- shmature…skamoosh!,” agreed a BJP MLA while perusing enlightenment in the Legislature.

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” She was riding the top of an aeroplane and crying out pure, untainted joy all this while.

Advertisements

The God of Small Thingies, Part II | The Right And The Wrong

Standard

The following text entails a very elusive and much sought-after erotic fable from south Asia. The telling of this fable in a single session is considered to be a very strong, and sometimes even fatal, aphrodisiac in these parts. Owing to its highly addictive nature, it has been known to cause several deaths due to uncontrolled consumption among the very sexy clowns of the monsooned forests of southern India, located in south Asia. Hence, having careful consideration of your safety and welfare, this erotic fable is brought to you in four parts. Read the first part here.

The town of Ayemenem was suffering a calamity of unforeseen proportions. Dicks shriveled and breasts insected infected. The communists had finally decided to come to the rescue. They suggested that a revolution could be of help, and this sentiment caught quite some popularity. Red flags were collected and several envoys to China were sent. Hammer and sickle dances became popular. These dances were elaborate affairs consisting of women sickling small thingies and men hammering their women.

Data painstakingly collected by the Indian Statistical Institute conclusively and undoubtedly proved that such dances had boosted the morale of the Ayemenem citizens and consolidated social solidarity by %. It was further reported that they brought down the suicide rate by π%. Many people thought these findings were quite irrational, but since the masses were very oppressed, they could not say or do much about it.

The government further allotted Rs. 10 crore of funds to rename all existing children Lenin, Mao and Che in that order. Some objection was expressed by the Right-wing parties to such changes, and several FIRs for the crimes of sedition and waging war against the nation were filed. But everything was sorted out when the leading numerologist in Ayemenem (who also happened to be the temple elephant’s third cousin twice removed) confirmed in his expert evidence before the Supreme Court that the renaming was in consonance with the ethics of numerology and could only bring good fortune on Ayemenem. Nevertheless, none of these measures were successful in solving the shriveling of the thingies, which popularly began to be known as monsoon dicks.

Several specimen of the monsoon dicks were taken and stored in museums and displayed in exhibitions for tourists who did not have monsoon dicks. Biologists from all over the world marveled at the rarity of these thingies. A few of them died of compunction at not owning one for their own while looking at them. By the year 1991, monsoon dicks managed to become an exotic product in foreign markets.

Such trade however, was opposed by some very opposite people, who believed that it was nothing short of trafficking. Meanwhile these opposite people also noticed that at the hammer and sickle dances, a confusion of sorts was on the rise, which led to women sickling women and men hammering men, rather than hammering and sickling each other. This, the opposite people, agreed was rather depraved behavior and had to be stopped at all cost. No God, they declared, would be very pleased.

In the many conferences conducted by the opposite people they voiced their dissatisfaction with the communists and the laughing stock the nation was being made by other countries, because of Ayemenem. “Ah, where’s the dignity? Where be the self-respect?” they mourned. Then in a different tone, “But we must take action! If not now, then when? If not us, then who? If not this way, then how?” Determinism for change gave hope to Ayemenemites, who suddenly realized the shame of monsoon dicks and hammering and sickling the wrong parties.

A whole new era of righteousness was thus born. An era beautiful saffronly.

…to be continued.

Life, Universe and Penis

Standard

“On life, universe and everything, I will say this,” remarked The Great Ababa to Bozo one day, “It’s all in your penis.”

The Great Ababa was the great sexual mystic who had lived for twelve thousand years under the water forking fish. This enterprise, aggressively funded by the WHO, had been undertaken to examine the role of inter-species sexual drive in the process of evolution. Many times, Darwinian fables say, it has been found that while genetic variation produces an improved survival soldier version of the species, it also results in “a most unnatural sexual fervour” towards species of the lower order. It was said of The Great Ababa that he had had a writhing vision one night: Red herrings commanding him to explore the abovementioned irregularity in natural inclinations towards fornication, upon which he had jumped out of bed and exclaimed, “Carp(e) diem!” just before going to the nearest river and swimming upstream for well, the fish. This was only necessary as his research method was indeed very empirical: “You cannot know it unless you have experienced it,” being his personal motto.

Coming back to The Great Ababa’s remark: “Oh! I thought it was all in my head!,” Bozo responded to it with some surprise.

“Oh Bozey! So they say, so they say.” The Great Ababa sighed. “Descartes has exploited us far too long with his heady philosophy, it’s now time for Fuckartes to take over!”

“Fuck a cart? Brilliant! Nothing is beyond you, O Great Ababa!” Bozo looked at The Great Ababa in wonderment.

“Fuckartes, my dear! Fuckartes!…the art of fucking! And the only true way of knowing life, universe and everything!”

Bozo eyes grew rounder and rounder. This was all too exciting. “I am now beginning to get what you mean by it is all in the penis,” he said.

“Yes Bozo. But don’t let that make your penis too important! Because who wants to know life, universe ane the other shit anyways?”

“Uh, don’t you?” Bozo asked with some uncertainty.

“My dear sexy clown, after forking seventy gazillion fish in a span of twelve thousand years, I think I have known enough shit. That’s why I decided to chop my penis and eat it for dinner yesterday.”

“Wow, isn’t that illegal?”

“Yeah yeah blah, but I was just a bit tired of the whole thing you know? I’ve had my time, fish everywhere are grateful, conservationists are happy and the Nessi monster wrote to me the other day to thank me for the kids. But you Bozo! You!” The Great Ababa emphasised, “YOU have your entire penis in front of you. Why not do something about it?”

Bozo then noticed that his entire penis was indeed in front of him. It was dancing about naked.

“But how to go about it huh? How to go about penising life, universe and everything, O Great Ababa?” Bozo posed the problem.

“Look it’s like this, sexy clown. Think of life and universe as a great big jigsaw puzzle to be put together. And you’re a part of the puzzle. But more emphatically, your penis is a BIG part of the puzzle which your life is.”

Bozo nodded vigorously taking it all in.

“To really know life, universe and everything therefore, Bozo, you must find where your penis fits in the great picture. Where does it stand, eh? And when will it? You must discover theee!”

And so Bozo set out to discover life, universe and everything in his penis.

to be continued

No Slut Zone

Standard

There was this little lady I knew
Who had a big big appetite for love
Straying lipstick, jangled moves
Gay gay abandon she would go:
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.

One day she was called to a feast
A spirited evening full of trash ho ho!
So she decided to bang every pig she’d meet
Neat bow tie or glasses askew.
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.

But there is a catch you see, you see
Pigs don’t believe you so easily, ho! ho!
They couldn’t swallow her base sluttery,
Till it was polished by fine liquorsy, oh no!
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.

How she laughed, how she laughed
Pretending she was smashed and high
(But she was! wasn’t she, hey?)
And only then did the pigs
Look out of their insured sty
A bitch rendered senseless, they smirked, woohoo!
She would comply.
How she laughed, how she laughed, oh what a night!

Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.

You need a good reason to get some loving ’round here, slut!
For pigs are all men of reason, didn’t you hear Antony say?
You need a good reason o yes! I will say this much
As I push my heavy machinery (my love! my pride!) in your way.

Haha! Galalalalalalawheeeee! …ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.
Ta da tap tap shoobie doobie da da.