Monday, December 31, 2007

SWAT-AT-SIGHT

Well, do I thank God or do I thank Darwin's Theory of Evolution for the brilliant hand-eye coordination that I possess especially when it comes to swatting mosquitoes??

Never mind, I dont wanna cause a furore between the believers and the non-believers... Moreover, I have more mosquitoes swirling over my head now...

I guess there can be one more constructive debate on this issue... Is Man better than Machine?? In this case I would always prefer the former... In my tumultuous 21 years so far , I have never heard a mosquito screaming for death, because of the "Good Knight"... Forget the screams, I have never even seen a dead body of a mosquito killed by the "Good Knight"... No wonder I hate ambiguous names nowadays... A really "Good Knight" for the mosquitoes...

I am a man on a mission nowadays... Armed with my hands and eyes, I swat mosquitoes at sight... I am planning to make this a movement... Called the "SWAT-AT-SIGHT" movement...

The pros of this unique movement include :

1) Reducing the population of a dangerous creature.
2) The satisfaction of being a serial killer, especially when u swat more than 10 a day.

A few cons to make my movement a bit more realistic...

1) Blood spattered over your hands when u swat a particularly fat one...
2) U might think its a waste of time...

But then, I love being a serial killer... A serial mosquito killer... To experience the same satisfaction, please be a part of the "SWAT-AT-SIGHT" movement...

Friday, November 9, 2007

High?

Me posting after a long time. My previous blog has been put to rest. RIP. Though you can browse through the old posts there. This will remain the domain for my new posts. You are welcome to post your valuable comments here. Well, time to go through my post i guess...

There lays the nectar,
A grimy, old bottle of wine,
It is but a vector,
Of the minds of swine.

The glasses raised in cheer,
Makes their heads light,
While all I do is fear,
The light head's might.

The wine, was smooth,
Sweet, and treacherous,
Pretending to soothe,
But the body went tremulous.

The throat went warm,
As it made its way down,
Bearing nothing like harm,
Rather they were doing the clown.

There were the guffawing lads,
The austere colonel,
The rare but inevitable cads,
And the dog in the kennel.

Everyone save a few,
Soon, were having a kip,
Despite the cat's mew,
For, that, was the effect of a sip.