I Think

God must be a PC assembler

If there is one thing that scares the shit out of me(literally), it is the prospect of talking to a woman. My legs start doing the Mr.Bean jig, my tongue starts sticking to the ceiling of my mouth and my jaws get stuck into a strained tooth revealing smile that plainly conveys the message that i am not interested in talking or that I have a bad tooth ache. Anyway, I was forced into a conversation with a colleague that could have been easily avoided had i not been so gullible in assuming that I could just pull it off. Well, it went the way that it usually happens. For someone whose entire conversation in the office(other than anything work related) is limited to hellos, good mornings and byes, bringing up an interesting conversation with a woman over a cup of evening coffee is an onerous, stressful task.
Well, if there is anything in this world that comes close to god, i think it is google. My idea of god would be someone who answers all my questions. Google certainly does that, sometimes on the first try, sometimes it tests my patience by hiding the answer in the 121st page and also occasionally correcting me to ask the right questions. Anyway, I looked up ‘How to talk to women’ in google and Ta-da.. there were instant answers, although i dint look up any of the links to spare myself the embarassment of my colleagues finding me reading such an article. On hindsight, it would have been a good option to have looked into them.
All this makes me think of god being a wily PC assembler, he apparently fixed me up with a 3Ghz quad core processor, 300 GB HDD and a 3GB RAM, but when it came to installing the OS, i guess he chose windows 3.11 or windows 98(although i am happy, it is not Vista, i would be asking permission even to pee…), that crashes even when i attempt a simple communication. Not to forget the obselete NIC card of the 80’s that he installed, which is incapable of the establishing a connection for lack of compatibility with latest protocols. My poor soul has indeed had a raw deal with god 😦

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I Think

Why am i not blogging frequently?

Lately, I have been wondering why i am not writing as much as i would like to, for there are so many things i can think about, and opinions I have wanted to write about. The two reasons that I could think of are
a) Who cares about what you think?
Ok. I admit it, I am no Malcolm Gladwell or Scott Adams, that people jam the network to read what i think and attain salvation in the process, and
b) In my experience, people look into a blog for two reasons, to get some useful insight or information on a specific topic or to derive some sort of pleasure from reading the blog. My blog would definitely not fall into the first category, but I try to make it as good as possible so that it qualifies into the second. So when I set out to write something, I simultaneouly evaluate the PFRB index(pleasure from reading blog), that an average reader would derive by reading the blog.
On the face of it, humans seem highly capable of multitasking, most often than not we do two or more things at a time and pride ourselves at doing it..(that makes it three or more). It looks like we have been designed to do so, but nothing in the rest of nature seems to suggest this. Have you ever seen any animal eat its dinner while watching TV or read magazines while shitting? Since we are not designed for multitasking, our attempts to do so, will only result in depleted performance in all the tasks we take up at a time.
Ok, enough digression, the point is that when I write the blog, while simultaneously computing PFRB, the end product seems to diminish in value (for reasons stated above), computing PFRB while writing itself reduces PFRB. Realisation of this only makes matters worse. In an attempt to lift the PFRB, i often try to alter the content with high sounding technical words or flambouyant phrases, for people often appreciate creative albeit twaddle.
The resultant is equivalent to the end product of a plutonium fission reactor powered supercomputer simulation of all the parts starting from the esophageal sphincter to the gastrointestinal tract and extending upto the arse hole, SHIT!!, although, occasionally an audible fart, that brings a laugh. (what is it with fart that makes us laugh??)

Now you know why I dont blog frequently.

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