Thursday, March 29, 2007

Senile ramblings

I'm sitting in a restaurent called Ginger Marie. Mumbai's equivalent of Casa Picola I guess. My new pen writes really well just in case you were wondering Dear Diary. I'm bored. I want to see a movie but nothing i want to catch is on. Little Miss Sunshine at 11:15 pm. I think I'll go watch that.

I have a joint. All rolled up and waiting. Finish dinner, a chicken fettucini pasta Arabiatta. I'm not expecting much. Some semi dry tomato sauce, bits of chicken floating around and the whole thing just drowned in cheese. Lots and lots of cheese cause this is Mumbai and every kind of food you can think of can be served with cheese. Cheese in your dosa and Cheese in your tava pulav. They fucking love it here.

Bangalore was awesome. Maiden, then Scotty's then weed, then beer, food, my room, the company of friends. Bangalore was fucking awesome. The only thing missing was a gas chamber. I think we've all grown up a bit. Tolerance levels have gone down and we all pass out sooner rather than later. The end of an era if you will Dear Diary. The sad bit is, I'm not sure when the end came.

The pasta was pretty good. Spicy, just a sprinkling of parmesan and a nice sauce. I don't know why I didn't come here earlier.

I've just about finished my Hellblazer collection. Almost. Missing Azarello's Good Intentions and Ellis's Setting Sun and Haunted. I think Garth Ennis's contribution to Hellblazer was fucking spectacular. His vision of Satan, Lord Lucifer call him what you will leaves Gaiman's version from Sandman and Mike Carey's version from the spin off in the dust. Ennis's version of Lucifer is just bad ass.

India's out of the World Cup. It was pathetic. I felt embarrased and ashamed. All of my predictions of atleast a semi final berth were consigned to the stuff of dreams. What happens to Indian cricket now is anybody's guess. I'll still watch every game as will millions of my fellow Indiansso the BCCI won't be too bothered. Such a big dissapointment. This country deserved better.

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