"Minkey?" "Wha?" "You said Minkey!"
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One possible usage of the future:
"How many male models should we use in this section of the Speedo show?"
"Hang on, let me apply Johnson's Theorem. A Mumbo comes to mind... so that's three. Three male models. Make those "rumalis" nice and thin, okay?"
It all begins when Munna is born inconveniently just one or two months late for LKG or UKG admissions cut-off in a given year. So the parents concoct an “official” birthday that’s one or two months earlier (carefully counting three-four times from their wedding date), so that their darling chut-put will not waste his time running around nunga-punga when he could be getting a serious education and be on his way to taking the IIT-JEE one year early. Imagine, he will always be-ahead-in-life!
And so all the paperwork from then reflects this fake birthday: school records, passport, driving licence, and eventually—oh so inevitably, given that Munna had this shiny headstart—his H1B visa application for America-based employment purposes.
She: What, you don't know your own birthday?
Munna: I'm trying to remember which one's my real birthday.
She: Check please!
RegionAll India, Pakistan
"On holiday last week ah? You enjoyed?"
"Now shout after me. JIMMY! JULIE! JIMMY! JULIE!"
"JIMMY! JULIE! JIMMY! JULIE!"
"Nice, see you later."
"What the hell was that all about? Wait, what's that sound?"
"The sound of ten thousand hounds of hell baying as they gallop right at me?"
"I said I'll see you later. Bye now."
"I'll give you Rs. 50."
"Up shit creek?"
"Huh? No men, I was peddling my bicycle-"
"We're talking here! How do you know if it was 'peddle' or 'pedal'? You just profiled me!"
"What am I? Two?"
CategoriesFestivals and Religion
1) Shards from neighbour's letter box
2) Shards from empty Asian Paint tin
3) Intestines from toad
4) Jelly (the granite kind)
5) Shards from your once-favourite toy car
6) Shards of whatever the hell other household articles you're trying to blow up, the success of which will result in you getting kolted by your mummee.
"Bring the agarbatthi here you bliddy coward!"
"No, first pitch it! I'm not coming till you pitch it!"
A pocket full of posies
We all fall down.
You swerve and narrowly avoid being flattened by said bus. You go up to the driver and express your outrage at being nearly killed by his foolish behaviour. Driver leans out of the window and says, "Nothing happened no? Why are you getting upset?"
The story above ends happily. The Yezdi rider delivered one left-hand slap so hard, the bus driver's face actually rippled and the Yezdi rider's hand stung for ten minutes after. Something happened. YES!
"Nothing happened no? See? I missed. Why are you getting upset?"