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Do Desis hate seeing other Desis succeed?

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My first

Semester at my new school went like this:

First class: This class was pretty chill. This was the same course which had the dancing guy, which I had previously posted videos of. It also had another character. There was a guy who strategically sat to a new girl every class and started talking to them. Good for him, even though he came to class looking very unkempt, and the girls he spoke to barely made eye contact with him. I saw him in another building after class and thought I would say hello. Guess what? He ignored me. I realized this was because I did not have a vagina. The professor for this class is in grad school. He came to class more tired than I was and lazily went through PowerPoint presentations. As a matter of fact, I just got my final grade for this class after waiting 8 days for it. That shit stressed me out. The only thing that kept me awake was feverishly taking notes.

Second class: This was a theology course. I made a decision on the first day of class that I would not let my personal views on religion or how life should be lived get in the way of learning the material. I was going to learn what I needed to get the best grade possible. Did others feel this way in the class? Well most did, except for one woman. She made it a point to get "answers" when it came to her faith. No problem, but please don't go on and on to the point where I'm sitting in class for an extra five minutes or quizzes are delayed because you felt like you've been lied to all your life by your family and community. There was a girl I got along with pretty well. We would chat outside of class and smoke cigarettes before heading in. We had similar regional and academic backgrounds. It was her first semester at the school as well. As the semester went on I obviously got to know more and more of my classmates.
     One day as I was going to class, a bunch of students were huddled around a cell phone. They were watching a music video on Youtube. I went to see what the fuss was all about. Apparently the video they were watching had illuminati references and talked about the coming apocalypse. I kept my mouth shut, but they weren't done there. They went on to talk about that the acceptance of homosexuality in America was the biggest sign of the second coming of Christ. Hmmm. Ok. I walked away. I knew if I threw in my two cents I would be asking for trouble. Sometimes it's better to keep your opinion to yourself. That's when I fully realized how conservative my school was. The professor for this class was great. Not only did he teach the material well, but he was a sincere human being.

Third class: This was my class of the day which made it the most boring. My biggest motivation for going to this class was the fact that I was surrounded by pretty girls. Don't judge me. This was another theology course. I always came to class prepared but the PowerPoint presentations and boring lectures wanted me to take a nap. Having the clock in the direct line of my vision did not help at all. Not looking at it for what seemed like an eternity and then looking back up to only see five minutes go by was very disheartening.
      The professor was really nice to me. He would say hello if I saw him around campus and took a genuine interest in my academic progress. For some reason he thought I was a great student. Boy, was he wrong.  This had the most Desis out of all my classes and I got along with pretty much all of them. There was a student who sat in front of the class. I gave him the nickname of "Professor" because he would always ask stupid questions. The type of questions that made me want to burst out in laughter. He would say random things like "vampires" and "well I was watching the thing on TV one time..." We've all known somebody like this. He provided great entertainment.

Fourth class: This was my longest but only class of the day. This is where the guy who did nothing but complain about school and eat homemade turkey sandwiches was. You might remember me mentioning him in my Facebook statuses. This class was very chill. There was an assignment due every class but nothing major and all of the tests were take home. Here is where I would take out my iPod touch and play games. Please, do not do this. This is very irresponsible behavior. Do as I say, not as I do. Being distracted really made the time go by. I wasn't the only one slacking. Pretty much everybody in the class had a laptop and would use it for reasons that were not academic. I felt less guilty now.

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For those of you

     That do not know, I transferred to a new university this semester. Not that anybody cares, but it has taken up most of my time, so I am not able to update the blog as often as I want to. It's a new environment and I enjoy it. For example: at my old school if I looked at somebody for 2 seconds or more, it would probably be returned with a dirty look. At my new school it would be greeted with: "Hey! How are you! Good morning! You look pretty tired this morning buddy! Didn't get enough sleep last night pal?!" Mind you this is coming from a stranger. A subtle but welcoming change. Another subtle difference is the cleanliness of the bathrooms. My old institution had disgusting facilities even though I would see them being cleaned at least once during the school day. It's a good feeling to walk into a restroom and not have a foul smell hit you in the face, or hear moans and groans while somebody is in a stall. The professors are dope as well. I missed a couple days of class the other week because I was sick as a dog. When I emailed my professors to notify them they all said: "It's ok! Hope you feel better Bali! *nicknamed is used to hide my real identity hehehe* If you need more time on any assignments let me know! JUST GET BETTER!!!!" In the past I wouldn't get a response, but if I did, it would be along the lines of "Yea ok. See you next class."
     Before attending I knew that quite a few Desis went to this school. I didn't see many my first few weeks of class. The ones I did see looked like they belonged in high school. I had at least one Pardesi in each of my classes and eventually spoke to a couple of them. I was told that if I wanted to meet Desis on campus, which I had no real desire to, then I would have to join clubs like the MSA (Muslim Student Association) and SASA ( South Asian Student Alliance). I asked one of my Desi classmates about the MSA. He said he only went for Friday prayers. Makes sense. Might as well use the facilities on campus while you're there. Then he said that not too long ago there was a "weed scandal" at the club. I didn't need to hear anymore to know what he was trying to get at. Coupled with this news and getting emails and physical letters in the mail from them even before I started attending about various functions that I didn't care about, which seemed almost harassing at moments, made me not want to associate with the club. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure they do great things, and help out the community, but I'm not religious anyway so I don't see a point in going there. Also, I don't want to be in the middle of any "scandals" while I'm at school. The last thing I need is a young Molvi planting a dime bag on me so he can save face in front of his peers.
     The workload, just as I had expected, is much more than I'm used to. I like it. It feels good to do a mountain of reading and shut the book knowing that you conquered it. It does get stressful at times, but I don't mind it. Overall I'm happy with the institution. I know this post might be different than my others, but I have to change it up once in a while. Right? Not really. Just using that as an excuse so I could write this. I am Baliwala. Hey there! Thanks for reading! Be sure to visit more often! That is all.
     


    

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Last Sunday

A repairman had to come to the house to do some work on the AC. This guy promised to complete his work everyday for almost a week but never showed up. When he said he was coming Sunday morning, based on his past behavior, and the fact it was a Sunday, I doubted he would show up. Even with this in mind, I woke up at 9 AM. I wasn't very tired but I was bored. I dreaded the thought of waiting even an hour for him. Luckily he showed up on time. He also brought a friend. The thing about this friend was that he walked with a limp. I soon found out that he had an operation done on his leg and this was the reason for his odd gait. The main guy said that he brought him along to help. Weird, having somebody who is injured help you? Really? Oh well. I escorted both of them to where the work was to be done. The main guy, who I'll call Teeth, because that's what he showed a lot when he smiled, immediately got to work. His friend stood aside and chilled. I'll call the friend Beaver, because that's what he looked like. Beaver and Teeth had a very friendly rapport and displayed this by making numerous lewd jokes to another. Some of these jokes included: "It's too hot here. Yea, when a woman says that when she's on top of you, that means it's time to change positions." Also, "Hey, are you ok back there? Do you have enough room, or is your dick too big? Oh I forgot, you have a small one. Hey, at least I don't need a microscope to see mine." I laughed nervously along. I didn't know what to make of this. Beaver left frequently to get tools from the truck. In the meantime, Teeth and I talked about everything from types of electrical wiring, to iPhones.
     Then Beaver returned after one of his trips asked me if I were going to vote. I paused. I almost never discuss politics with strangers because I have no clue what their ideology is, and I don't want to get into an argument. I said that it didn't matter who I voted for because in 2008 Obama got over 70% of the popular vote from my state, and I predicted the same would happen this year. He gave me the old "It's not about that. It's about exercising your right to vote." Cool. I get your point. Then he asked me if I saw the Republican National Convention. I said I saw bits and pieces. He said that Romney and Paul are the smartest people to ever run for the office of President and Vice President, and that Romney was a "good guy." This is when I knew he was a Republican. No beef here. Then after a bit he asked me if there was a computer available because he wanted to show me a video. I told him the truth and escorted him to the PC. I had to. He could have had a gun on him, and you never want to disagree with somebody who has a gun. That's how it is. He then showed me a video on Youtube named Agenda 21. The gist of the video was that in 1992 the government made a decision that they would put environmentalism over individual rights. This is something I could at least understand, but then the video went into verbiage like "fascist" and "socialist." This is when I knew this video was propaganda.
      I didn't want to say anything because I wanted to avoid any arguments. We then returned to the basement while the work was just about done. Thank God. I couldn't take anymore political talk on a Sunday morning. Before they left, Beaver told me he was not a Republican but actually a Libertarian. Whatever man. Your views are crazy. Well I shouldn't say crazy, but much different than mine. His parting words were: "I'm pretty sure I changed your mind today." No you didn't. You just affirmed my liberal/progressive thinking and political views, which I thank you for. Get into debates. Get into arguments. Always look at the other side of the story no matter what it be. You might learn something for a change, and at the very least, your own beliefs, ideologies, morals, ethics will be strengthened. Open your eyes. I am Baliwala. A disabled man who is overweight wants me to vote for Romney. That is all.

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It's funny how

  People will look down upon you when it comes to education, when you attend a better institution than they do. It's not my fault I busted my ass and reaped the rewards. Maybe if you were more intelligent and hardworking, you wouldn't be attending a second-rate university, where Desis pretend to get degrees until they get an arranged marriage. Be humble. Not only does your shit stink, but it's probably stinks more than you think. I am Baliwala. A girl who attends a school that is a half step above a community college, can kiss my ass. That is all.

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From the Indian Independence Day in downtown Chicago. The quality sucks. Just a warning.

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      When I asked you if I should go to jury duty? Guess what? I actually went. At first I didn't want to attend at all. The thought of waking up early and going to a place filled with strangers, then waiting aimlessly for hours wasn't very appealing to me. Everybody I asked said it wasn't too bad and it would be over before I knew it. Also, I would receive about 16 or 17 bucks for my attendance. I woke up pretty early that morning, about 7:30 am. I didn't want to be late. When I entered the courthouse there were metal detectors. I removed anything I thought was metal from my belongings. When I walked through the detector it went off. I was then told that not only did I have to remove everything from my pockets, but my belt as well. Weird but whatever. I did it. It was very odd having to put my belt on in front of so many people. I usually do an activity like this alone. The room I had to wait in was huge and filled with many people. I was sandwiched between two smelly bodies. Because of this I was forced to breath from my mouth. This is a skill I have perfected over the years. Not a big deal.
      I then spotted a cute Desi girl from afar. Damnit. I didn't look my best and anyway, it would be awkward to hit on a girl during jury duty especially since she was sitting pretty far away from me so I told gave myself an excuse to stop staring. A video was then shown about what we as prospective jurors should expect. It looked like it was shot in the 80's. I quickly went into my book bag and got my book. After about 45 minutes my group number was called and I was escorted with about 30 other people to a courthouse. Good. Looks like I won't be here as long as I expected. We all sat in the audience part of the courtroom. Then the bailiff started to call names to the jury stand so they could be interviewed by the prosecutor and defense attorney. Once again my spirits were high because the odds of me not being picked were in my favor. All of a sudden my name was called. A total of 12 names were called to the stand. Then the lawyers proceeded to ask various questions to people 4 at a time. I was in the second group. The questions they asked me ranged from what I studied, to if I had an interest in bio-mechanical engineering, to if I ever had back pain in my life, to what my hobbies were.
    
      I answered no to all of these questions with the hopes that I wouldn't be picked, and plus, I was under oath so I couldn't lie. Then all of a sudden the defense lawyer says to the judge: "Your honor, these four are fine." Before I knew it I had been sworn in as a juror. Shit. How did this happen? I was dismissed for an hour along with the others that had been sworn in. I was in denial so I asked one of the jurors if we had been chosen. The 66 year old man answered that indeed we had been. Aw fuck. He told me that this was his 9th time attending jury duty but the first time being picked. Looks like I wasn't the only one with bad luck. I went outside to have a cigarette and to try and process what happened. This was going to be interesting. I went back into the courthouse and removed my belt again. I felt like an amateur stripper.

Day 1
     It was about 2:30 PM of the same day and the trial was scheduled to begin. During the recess period before I was outside and noticed that a function for Pakistani Independence Day was taking place in the adjacent corner of the building. I went to check it out from where I was. Didn't seem like anything special, just a bunch of men in suits and average looking girls in shalwar khameez, so I went on with my business. I made my way through security once again and then towards the courthouse. The judge informed us that the trial wouldn't last for more than a few days. This was kind of a relief. The plaintiff was suing the defendant because he hit him in an automobile accident, from the rear, that's what she said. The results of this accident were that the plaintiff had horrible neck and back pain, and was not able to work as a bricklayer because it slowed him down, and if his bosses saw that he would be fired on the spot.
     He was suing for over $100,000. Then the prosecution made their opening statement. You ever watch law shows and see how melodramatic the lawyers are? Well guess what? That's exactly how they are in person. I had to put my hand over my mouth a few times to contain my laughter. It seemed as if he was purposely trying to amuse me. I felt as if I had been teleported to an show on Broadway.  The defense then made their opening statement. The defense lawyer looked like a model, no homo. He was definitely 30 at the oldest and spoke with little confidence, which was the opposite of the prosecutor. During the opening statement and throughout the trial, he had a habit of licking his index and middle finger on his left hand, then went down to his notepad as if he were about to turn a page. Guess what? He didn't turn a damn page. I found this to be quite filthy.
    The prosecutor was a boring looking man with a long face and a boring suit. He definitely got it at the Men's Warehouse during a buy one get one free sale. The defendant was then called to the witness stand. I guessed that he had been in his late 30's but then found out he was only 24. Holy shit. Life must of beat up this poor bastard because he had aged horribly. He said he indeed did hit the plaintiff, and was going between 20-30 MPH, but that he had started to slow down right before the collision so he wasn't sure how fast he was going, and that the impact wasn't very hard. The prosecutor kept on referring to his deposition that he gave 2 years ago, and his answers didn't match up. Made the guy look pretty bad. Proceedings went into recess for the first day. I had survived.

Day 2
     Court started at 9:30 AM and we were told the day before by the judge that we would have a full day of proceedings. The night before I googled how long that would be, but I didn't get any useful information. We were provided with notepads and encouraged to take notes. I did take notes but mainly because I didn't want to fall asleep. About a half hour after proceedings started the plaintiff's doctor took the stand. Guess where his doctor was from? India. That's right. What a shock. He studied in India but had an American accent. Something was fishy. He read all of his answers from the deposition he had given in 2010. He said that he cleared the plaintiff to work 2 weeks after the accident. Hmmm seems like his injuries weren't too bad if he were allowed to return to work in that period of time. The plaintiff himself then took the stand. He said that to this day he still had pain, especially in his lower back and could not work. Taking Excedrin had become a part of his daily life. He said that ever since the accident, which was in 2008, he had intimacy issues with his wife. Really man? Then why did you get her pregnant in 2010? Unless it was an immaculate conception, that boggles my mind.
     Stuff wasn't making sense. He then broke down into tears because he said he wasn't able to play with his 2 year old son. Bullshit. I didn't buy the tears. Call me an asshole but it seemed fake. We were then provided a shitty lunch. I barely ate and decided to go outside. That day they had a stage setup for Indian Independence Day celebrations. This could be cool to see. One of my fellow jurors crept up behind me and yelled : "OOOH! THIS IS WHERE DEM DO DAT BELLYDANCIN RIGHT?" I said yea sure. I had no energy to explain the complexities of the arts when it concerned the Indian subcontinent. The 66 year old man I had mentioned earlier pulled up a chair and started asking me questions about India and Pakistan. I didn't mind answering his questions because up to that point I had gotten along with him the best out of all the jurors. He was very chill and smoked too. We were informed by the judge to not discuss the case with anybody, including the other jurors. Fuck that. What else were we supposed to talk about? As a matter of fact, that's mostly what my new friend and I discussed. Yea, I broke the law. Sue me. Right away my new friend and I had come to the conclusion that the plaintiff was bullshitting to get money. We hoped that the other jurors felt the same. To me it was pretty obvious. Then all of a sudden I heard that Bhangra was going to be performed. I pulled out my iPod Touch so I could record the dance. I was quite surprised and confused when 3 White girls came on stage. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about multiculturalism, but this was after all INDIA DAY for crying out loud. I didn't recognize any of the songs they were dancing to. I was pretty disappointed to say the least. I headed back in. Once again, the belt came off. This is something I was now used to. Damn near getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers. I never thought this day would come. I felt like a whore.
       The next witness was a guy who ran the union the plaintiff worked under. He pretty much told us how nice and honest the plaintiff was. This was a waste of time in my opinion. Then the defense called their forensic expert to the stand. This guy had 8 degrees, two of which came from Harvard. He was a bio-mechanical engineer, medical doctor, attorney, and probably a hundred other things. Right away he came off as arrogant. The only notes I really took on him were: "Smug asshole." In his opinion the moment of impact was at maximum 2.5 MPH. He said there was more force when the plaintiff got into his car and shut the door as opposed to the accident. Blown up pictures of both cars were then shown. They were black and white and not of the best quality. Even then, it was safe to say that there was little to no damage done to either car. Yeah, this guy was a bullshitter. If bullshitting was a city he would be the superintendent of shitty services for every ward. When the plaintiff asked the Dr. questions he was being beyond difficult. Even when asked to answer with a simple yes or no, he felt the need to elaborate on his answers to anger the prosecution, and it worked. This was by far the funniest part of the trial. The prosecutor paused many times and took deep breaths as he angrily smirked.
      We were told at least 8 times by the judge to disregard the last statement and question. Kind of hard to do though once it's already been heard. The Dr. continued to be difficult then we learned that he earns most of his money by testifying in cases like these. How much does he earn? $500 an hour is what he earns, and he mostly testifies for the defense. When the prosecution said this was too much he responded that it was a fair price considering his education and the fact his blood pressure was rising. Fuck you and your blood pressure, you elitist prick, but at the same time I couldn't argue with his science. He had an extensive background in it. Science is tested and proved. I kept in that in mind even though the guy was a prick. Court was done that day. I was exhausted. I headed over to McDonald's and got something to eat. Went home and knocked out.

Day 3
     The final day of court. Thank God. 3 days had felt like a month and I was ready for things to wrap up. We were informed that one more witness would take the stand and then we would deliberate. I had already made up my mind. Another witness from the prosecution took the stand and told us how honest and nice the plaintiff was once again. Fuck that. The guy looked like a thug in my opinion who wanted to hustle the system. After about an hour of questioning ,cross-examination, and closing arguments, we were ready to deliberate. This guy wanted $40,000 for pain and suffering, $33,500 for lost wages, $10,562 for hospital bills, and $40,000 for disability. In my mind the case was clear cut. Oh boy was I wrong. Right away when the other jurors started giving their opinion I knew things were going to take a turn for the worst. I took the initiative by writing all of the amounts on the chalkboard provided to provide some clarity. We already agreed to give the full amount on the hospital bill. Then it came to pain and suffering. I wanted to give the guy $2,000. Fuck him. Pain and suffering is very subjective so it's hard to put a price on it in my opinion. Another juror wanted to give him nothing for that. Another wanted to give him $100,000. Whoa whoa whoa, hold on there buddy. Are you kidding? His defense was that he has had back pain in his life and it has been very debilitating. This is when the yelling and profanity started. Holy shit. People were going to kill each other.
      I got up to get control. Not because I felt confident or wanted to be responsible, but because I wanted to get the hell out of there. This is what I said: "Let's go around and get everybody's amount then get the average. That is what we'll give him. It's not like we're paying him, the insurance company is." Sounds harsh but that's how I felt at the moment. Surprisingly everybody agreed......except for once juror. She was a Hispanic MILF who reminded me of Sofia Vergara. Google her if you don't know who that his. Her decision was purely based on the testimony of the forensic scientist. "Listen guy, he went to Harbard. He know what he talking about." She did not want to compromise at all. By this time we had been deliberating for an hour and a half and it looked like it wouldn't end anytime soon. Then a juror who had been quiet throughout the trial started to speak up, and actually made sense. He told her that her stubbornness was getting us nowhere and wasting our time. I was surprised. When being selected for the jury and asked what his hobbies were, he responded with "Playing the guitar and walking around." Wow, you have a fun life.  Once again people started talking at once and yelling profane things at each other. I kept quiet. I went into the bathroom to get away from things, and because I had to obviously urinate.
     Out of nowhere I hear "YO!" They were calling for me. I rushed out and realized the reason they called for me was because they wanted me to adjust an amount on the board that they had agreed upon. Really? Is that what the ruckus was about? It doesn't take a special skill to write on a chalkboard. Then we had to pick a foreperson, somebody to deliver the verdict to the judge. Right away everybody nominated me. Fuck that. These people didn't even know my name even though I had told them it many times, but now they wanted me to be the head of the jury? They settled on the nickname Sweety Pie for me. I didn't mind this, but I have a name. I'm not a piece of meat.
      After refusing the foreperson position, somebody else was selected. We decided to give the guy just over $71,000. When he heard this he wasn't happy at all. Never saw somebody so upset over getting quite a bit of money. Fuck him once again. We received our final checks for that day along with a certificate. The 66 year old man asked everybody  to sign the back of his, and I did. Then I got the hell out of there. I was so glad to be done, but it was an interesting experience. I had never though I would serve on a jury, but I'm glad I did. I fulfilled my duty as a U.S. citizen and got an idea on how a civil lawsuit works. I am Baliwala. Let me judge you, baby. That is all.

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My review of: The Dark Knight Rises *SPOILER ALERT*

It was pretty good. My favorite part was when Batman punched people who were bad.

Always remember

There is a difference between starving yourself and fasting.

A story

There was once was a cat named Billy. He was a very curious and brave cat. One day he was strolling along a lake. He suddenly spotted a fly that was hovering over it. Billy really wanted to catch the fly. The problem was that the fly was six inches about the water and about 5 feet away from the edge of the lake. Billy perched himself on the edge of the water. His plan was to jump and catch the fly with his mouth. He hadn't thought about what might happen after that, or what would happen if he failed for he had much courage. After much deliberation, he leaped for the fly. Just as it was almost in the grasp of his mouth, the fly flew out of reach. Billy landed in the water and felt embarrassed for failing. Moral of the story: if the fly drops six inches, the pussy will get wet.

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I received

A letter that informed me that I am summoned for jury duty on August 14th. Should I go? I think this is the first time I've gotten a summons. I might have had it in the past and not showed up. A part of me wants to fulfill my duty as an American citizen, while another part of me is being lazy and telling me not to show up. What should I do? Leave a comment.

Shoutout to

The Oipagalpari Blog for selecting me to receive the Liebster Blog award. You can read her blog by clicking here I'm not sure how this exactly works, but I'm supposed to tell 11 facts about myself and answer 11 questions that were posed to me. Here we go. 11 facts about myself
1. The only musical instrument I have ever played is the tabla. I actually posted a clip of me playing it on here a while go, but I don't play regularly. 2. I sometimes sleep upside down so when I wake up I get surprised. It helps me start the day off with some adrenaline. 3. I have kept facial hair as long as I can remember. This is because if I don't I look like a child. 4. I read the 1997 Guinness Book of World Records. 5. I was so tired one morning I left the house with a sock hanging out the end of my jeans. 6. I used to peel the foil off of gum wrappers out of boredom. 7. My friend's pet mouse once got loose. I tried to help my flipping over the sofa to see if it was there. I crushed it. 8. My grooming products mainly are from Irish Spring. 9. I bump my funny bone into something at least once a month. One of those times was today. 10. I get dehydrated and migraines quite often, but I'm a soldier. So it's all good. 11. I sing a lot even though I don't have a good voice. I sing in the shower, in my room, in public, and during pretty much any activity. Mostly Desi songs. 11 questions 1. Do you believe in making your own destiny or being taken on it's decided path? You HAVE to make your own destiny. The second you think you're on a decided path is the second you give on on free will, choice, and expression, and when you do that, you're pretty much dead. 2. What are you most proud of? I'm proud of the fact that I've stayed true to my own thoughts and morals. 3. What is your favourite flavour? Hmm. Tie between strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, coffee, cheery, sour apple, apple, banana. Yea, I don't have one. 5. Velcro, Zipper or Snap button? Definitely zipper. The sound of a zipper going up and down in magical. *insert perverted joke* 6. What is your life's motto? You can't control people's actions but you can control your reactions. 7. Is the carrot half eaten or half left? Half eaten. 9. What was your favourite subject in Junior School? History, because it was the easiest. Just memorization. 10. Have you ever broken a bone in your body? (If yes, where?) Never broken a bone. Had sprains though. I'm not very adventurous. 11. Girls: After the age of 14, have you ever worn running shoes with a skirt? Boys: After the age 14, have you ever worn a cap with a checkered shirt? I probably have. I used to own some weird Old Navy shirts that were checkered, along with various hats that I got for free. Sorry about the format. I'd change it but I'm too lazy, and you probably already noticed in the questions part numbers 4 and 8 are missing. I copied and pasted. It's ok. It happens. Thanks once again to RehyaBond for the award.

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I usually

Don't entertain when telemarketers when they call my cell, which is a rare occasion, but I decided to do something different today. A Filipino man called from a 402 area code number, which I later found out was located in Nebraska, and said I had become a semi-finalist in a contest from a company called DirectBuy. When he asked me for my name I said it was David Cawk. When I was asked if I had a wife, I answered that I did and her name was Abigail, same last name as me. He then proceeded to inquire about my fake wife's and I combined income before taxes. I replied by saying "$785,000 a year!" I added an exclamation point to emphasis that I was enthusiastic because I had readily reminded myself that I was telling this stranger a lie about being married and making that much money. While he gave me the rundown about all the prizes I could win, which included a trip to "Lahs Begas" and up to "pipty dousand dohlars in caysh", I kept on saying things like "OH WOW! IT MUST BE MY LUCKY DAY! OH, YOU DON'T SAY?!" He continuously said that it was my lucky day and marched on with his sales pitch. The gentleman then told me to write down important information as how to actually win the contest. He told me to get a pen and paper. I said I had it already, which I didn't. Then he gave me an address and telephone number that I pretended to write down. He now thought he truly had found a scam victim, so he said I should talk to his manager. His manager then said "How do you pronounce your name?" I replied with "David......CAWK!" "Sir, so is pronounced Cock?" "No no no, it is pronounced as Caaaawk!" He then went on and repeated everything the previous gentleman had said. Like how I could win a trip to anywhere in the U.S., how I could win a cruise, or win a boatload of money. See what I did there? 1000 points if you did. I continued with my "Oh wow!" and "IT MUST BE MY LUCKY DAY!" He said that it indeed it was my lucky day because I had been randomly selected. Then things got interesting. He told me to write down a code. Once again I pretended I was writing it down, but then he asked me to repeat the first 3 letters of the code. I blanked. He repeated the letters which were MDI, well at least I think that's what they were, because he said "eM as in Mayree, Dee as in Daktor, and I as in Eeegloo. I replied with "M as in Alaska, D as in Igloo, and I as in Idaho." He said that I was mistaken and repeated the code once more. I replied with "I as in Idaho, N as in Neo, the guy from the Matrix, and F as in Florida, the place I want to go to if I win the contest." He repeated the letters numerous more times, then said the code had a total of 7 letters. Oh boy. This is going to be a hoot. He gave me the next 2 letters to take it easy on me, I guess. "Sir the next lehters are Ter and aRe. Please repeat these lehters to me sir." "I as in Idaho, A as in Alaska" is what I said. He repeated these letters again. "Uhhhh R as in clown, C as in America. Now he knew something was up. For the duration of this conversation I had a smile from ear to ear. Just thought you should know. The dream of trying to get something like my bank account details were slowly vaninshing "Sir, ip you are baysting my tyme then let me kno nao sir." This was the time to let this guy know that I was messing with him. I told him that it was him who actually was wasting my time by calling me. He said that he wasn't and that I had genuinely been entered a contest and became a semi-finalist. "Listen homie, I know wasup. You're calling from the Philippines but are using an American telephone number. This way I'll think you're legit, but it's not going to work. You are frauds and scam artists. I will not allow you to insult my intelligence with your bullshit." "Sir, we are not scum artists or prauds." I started to burst into laughter. This entire situation was beyond ridiculous. I have to give it to him though, that's what she said, he stuck to his guns even after I had let him know I knew that things were not on the up and up. "How many people actually believe they're very close to winning a contest? Must be quite a few if you're still doing this, and I hear a bunch of phones and people in the background. Must mean you're quite busy at the 'office' today, but you can't fool me." I assumed this might rattle his cage a bit, but he replied with: "Sir, you peeple are sooo stoopid. We pool you peeple all the time. Bee are the beyst!" I once again broke into laughter. This guy had a pair of industrial sized stainless steel testicles on him. I then broke into a Filipino accent. Oh boy, maybe I shouldn't have done this because this guy flipped a bitch and a half. "YOU PUCKING EEDIOT! BE ARE THE BEYST IN THE WORLD! DONT MAKE PUN OF PILIPEENO!" Before I could reply, he hung up. Damn, I had a few more things to say. Actually it's probably a good thing he hung up because I would have eventually starting to use profane language in Urdu or Punjabi, and this would let him know I was Indian, or from Pakistan, and he could have said some very racist things. To this second he still believes my name is David. A married White man who is making over three quarters of a million dollars a year. Oh well. I am Baliwala. I'll be going to the Caribbean next month on a 3 day cruise, along with a suitcase filled with thousands of dollars. That is all.

It's the month of giving

So I did. I think you should do the same. Click here.

Vote

I'm going to order my fast food like this

Amir Khan

He wasn't "shockingly" beat by Danny Garcia. Khan has never definitively beaten a legitimate opponent cleanly. For example, when he beat an aged Barerra, the fight was stopped because of a cut. When he stopped an uninterested Judah, it was on a punch that was a borderline low blow. The people who he has beat have been below average, two of which knocked him out. The only skill he has is his speed. This is what has carried him throughout his amateur and professional career, but he has a downfall. This downfall is his weak chin and defense which can be neglectful at times. Khan is overhyped due to his race. It's sad but true. Boxing is a sport where people who have Khan's ethnic background are not dominant or not known at all. Oscar De La Hoya, along with Golden Boy Productions, have done a tremendous job at marketing Khan to the masses. They saw that he was a decent boxer who came from an untapped market. A subtle technique they have used is calling him "Boxing's bright young sensation" during his introduction. Khan has stated publicly that he wants to retire before the age of 30. This shows that his heart is clearly not into progressing in the sport of boxing to an elite fighter, but it is rather into making money and gaining fame. With this attitude Khan will never live up to his hype, and with that being said I believe he should retire. He has already accumulated massive amounts of money and he has gained enough notoriety to live off his work in the ring for many years. There is no point of putting Khan on HBO or Pay Per View only to see a 4 round fight in which one man is completely dominated, or the fight is stopped due to a cut. This is a waste of fans time and money. It's time that boxing fans start to research up and coming fighters and figure out how to see their fights. With the exceptions of Mayweather and Pacquaio, boxing has no stars. It's time fans paid attention to the sport as a whole instead a few "stars" who are jammed down our throats. Until then we will continue to be fed mediocrity.

Some people are disgusting

I wish I had a friend named Donny

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If you are, what sport are you most looking forward to seeing? Leave a comment.

You know

That feeling you get, when you haven't spoken to someone in a few days, but it feel like forever? Do you? Because I don't.

Good movie

Looking for guest bloggers

Anything from poetry, prose, any type of opinion, artwork, singing, dancing, etc.

Sketch a friend made

This is how

My summer class goes: I arrive 10 minutes before it begins. I am a punctual mofo. The first half hour of class I am engaged with the material being taught. The next hour I struggle to stay awake. There is only so much I can take. I'm only human. Instead of putting my head down on the desk to get shut eye, I sit up and put my left hand horizontally over my eyebrows, and tilt is enough so my eyes are closed. I use my elbow for support. I mix in a rubbing motion. This gives the professor the illusion that I am distraught and/or in deep thought. It's a method I've been perfecting for many years. The only problem is that my elbow which is the main support of this shenanigan, starts to relax and give way as I get more relaxed and come closer to falling in deep sleep. This wakes me up and causes my body to jerk. I'm working on cutting down on the violence of the jerking. That sounded wrong. After this segment of the class, Mr. I Say Stupid Shit Outloud starts his show. This fellow starts to speak about things that are completely unrelated to the course. Some of these things include: area codes, restaurants, banks, loans, the strait of Gibraltar, etc. It's like somebody took Google and beat it over the head repeatedly with a sledgehammer. He also likes it to be known that he has traveled the country and has attended many different institutions of learning. But that's not what bothers me about him. What I despise about him is his greasy hair. He has curly bangs that are covering a forehead that is most likely covered in acne. He looks like an extra from Saved by the Bell: The Early Years. An occasional appearance is made by Sir I Come To Class Rarely But I Pretend To Know The Course Material Jr. He tries to loudly give an answer to any question posed to the class. His confidence rivals that of a Subway customer who knows exactly what they want even before stepping inside the restaurant. When he finds out he was wrong, he pretends as if he never uttered a word. His head is covered in a Jew-Fro Sicilian low-level mobster hybrid congregation of hair. That's why I don't like him. Then we have Mr. GiggleBox McHugh. This guy will laugh at anything and everything people say. I sit behind him, so when he laughs at what I say, I have to lie to myself and think that I'm genuinely funny to this person. Then he soon shatters my self-esteem when he laughs at other peoples comments. This is disappointing. He has hair that resembles the fur of a mature Kodiak Bear who has just awoken from hibernation. Then there's my homie who sits next to me. He has blonde hair which he takes care of. So he's cool. He sees the oddity and overall stupidity that we sit around. He is much more vocal than I am in his disdain in disapproval of the social context of the room, especially towards Mr. I Say Stupid Shit Outloud. If this continues, shit just might get real. I'll keep you posted on that. Last week I struck up a conversation with another student who sits by me after I found out he attended the same high school as me. He has about the same haircut as me, so he's good people. Then a portly gentleman who sits in front of the class. He purchased a textbook which isn't required. Two bad signs right there. The conversation I was having was kept at a low level, but Mr. Borderline Obesity, who has tattoos probably of deserts turned around and said "SHHHHH!" Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't shh me panchode. I'm a grown ass man. I let it go decided it would be the best thing to do. His hair is thinning and looks like he should have given up his dream to be a rock star 20 years ago. When class was over about 20 minutes later, I was with my homie and high school buddy. I brought up the situation of what had occurred earlier. My homie shouted that he was an idiot who was going to bust his ass for a C, and he was just jealous that we mess around and do well in the course. This made me feel a bit better, but he didn't stop there. He indirectly suggested that we stomp him out(urbandictionary that term) to teach him a lesson. No way man. I'm not trying to go to jail. I'm too gangsta for prison. I laughed it off to show him I had no interest in his plan. The summer is going by pretty fast. Not sure if I'm actually learning anything though. I am Baliwala. Based on the hair descriptions in this post, and the the fact I judge peoples characters based upon that, you probably think I attend a cosmetology school, and you might be correct. That is all.

My new favorite song

Watch this

About a month

Ago I was at the airport. Who was I with, and who did I have to receive? Well that's none of your damn business buddy. Might as well ask me for my social security number if you're going to ask that. Things got off to a rocky start when I found out that the AC in the wasn't working. It was about 90 degrees that day with not a cloud in sight. After many failed attempts to try and rectify the situation, I gave up and decided to welcome the thick, hot air that came from the open windows. I was prepared with my bottle of water which had turned lukewarm within minutes. Then we ran into traffic. Just great. The hesitation of the stop and go of the cars rivaled that of a fob working up the courage to ask an NRI female (Google that term) for a pen or pencil during a remedial English class, even though he has at least twenty of his own. I passed the time by having a conversation in Punjabi with the I was traveling with. I find that if you speak in a language that is not native to the land in which you live in, it makes the time go by faster. This is because it makes you feel like you're in a different country. Maybe a country that is hours ahead of your own timezone. Try it yourself. You won't be disappointed. After we found parking and entered the airport I could easily see it was crowded. I hate big crowds, but I didn't mind this one very much. This is because of the large amounts of European women and female students from a big university that were exiting the terminals and wandering around. My goodness, they were hot. I almost forgot why I came to the airport in the first place, but know I was damn sure glad I arrived. Most of the women that were waiting for the passengers along with the people coming from the exits were of Turkish decent. I realized this when I found out that one of the flights was from Turkish Airlines. I'm smart like that. Can't get much passed me. The only eyesores I could spot at the moment were three nuns. Sorry Sisters. Please forgive me for I have sinned, but you guys looked out of place. To see the full spectacle of women I made an excuse to venture to another exit where my guests might have been coming out of. I constantly made excuses to go there knowing that they were probably not there at all. I wanted to see more hotties. Don't judge me. There was a slim chance that they might have been there. It's about the same chance Romney has of winning in November. Much to my disappointment, I didn't see many more attractive women. I then went to a McDonald's and got fries. I didn't want to get a full meal because then I would not be able to enjoy the view because I would be sitting down and focused on my food. With fries in a bag I could easily scope out anybody and everybody. And oh yea, I would be too distracted when it came to try and finding the people I was going to receive. That too, of course. Also, I didn't want to eat meat in front of the Desis around me who were already giving me the evil eye. I didn't want to further their hate for me by becoming a meat-eater sala. True fans of this blog will get that reference. While standing and munching on processed potatoes, I saw HER. She was in a low cut black dress. She was about 5'5" and had an amazing figure. She was holding a balloon. I'm guessing she was Turkish, because once again, one of the flights arriving was from Turkish Airlines. Deductive reasoning. I don't remember or care what was written on the balloon because I was too busy staring at her. I'm just saying. Decorations were the least of my concerns at the moment. I tried not to be obvious with my gawking, but I think I was. I turned my head for a few seconds, and when I turned back she was gone ( name the boy band who sang that song and get 5000000 Bali points.) I quickly dismissed her as being a ghost or a figment of my imagination. If I did not then I would have gone on a search for her and ended up God knows where. After some more waiting, I found myself situated next to two Sikh men. How did I know they were Sikh? Because they had turbans and beards. That's why. And because they told me. So yea. The person I was with struck up a conversation with the gentlemen. I followed suit. They were very friendly and said that the governments of India and Pakistan should be free with the border that separated the countries. They used the American-Canadian border as an example and said if that were to happen, the countries would get along much better. Don't think that's a good idea. I would go into why, but that's a 20 page paper. I should know. I actually did a 20 page paper on that topic. I noticed that the more we spoke the more they used the word panchode freely. Please cover the eyes and ears of any children in the room. I took this as a sign that they felt comfortable speaking to us. They exchanged numbers with the person I was with. I'm glad they didn't ask me for mine. I don't want late night texts or calls that start off with bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuah! That would scare the shit out of me. I wouldn't be able to handle it. The people they were waiting for had arrived and they were quickly on their way. Now it had been over 3 hours of waiting. I started to get tired. Remember, I am very lazy. Getting out of bed everyday is a triumph for me, so this was a big mission. I finally took a seat. Now all I could see were confused people from all around the world. I went outside for a cigarette. I felt like I was at an UN meeting and we were on a lunch break. That's how diverse the group I was with. Pretty cool stuff. I wish I had been wearing a tie so I could loosen it and speak to them in broken English (so they would better understand what I was saying. I noticed that if you speak this way to people whose first language isn't English, they tend to understand you better when you have horrible grammar) about a certain resolution wouldn't get passed. Oh well. Maybe next time. Upon returning I saw that it was still crowded, but now with people waiting for other flights. I jokingly thought to myself that maybe I had come on the wrong day or wrong time. OH SHIT! What if I did? That would suck. I then went to the front desk and made an inquiry. I gave the person there the names of the people I was waiting for, and he said he would go and check. Within 5 minutes, my guests had finally arrived. Thank God. Good job Mr. Nice Guy with White Hair. You should be employee of the month. I felt like I won a competition. I expected to get a medal and a bottle of Gatorade. Didn't happen. Oh well. Maybe next time. By the time I came home I was dead tired. Yes, I'm that lazy. I retired to bed but not before I took two Advil and drank heaps of water. I am Baliwala. Forget bars or clubs. Airports are the place to go to pick up females. That is all.

You might

Be my brother or sister by the Book, but you aren't by your nature and actions.

A couple

Of weeks ago your boy Bali needed a fresh new cut. I had been feeling lazy about getting it cut but my hair looked horrible. To give you an idea of how bad it was, let's just say if you put me next to Krusty the Clown you might not be able to tell the difference between us. When I headed into the barbershop I went into the second room. You would know about this room if you're a loyal reader. Guess who I saw there? If you guessed the Bengali woman who had cut my hair the last time I went, then you're correct. Once again, my loyal readers would remember her. She was busy cutting somebody's hair. Thank God. I returned to the first room and was approached by a petite woman who asked if she could cut my hair. Sure. Why not? My hair couldn't look any worse. She was friendly and immediately made conversation. I wasn't surprised. She wanted to make small talk so I would tip her generously. LOL! Like that would ever happen..pshhhh. The first thing she said to me was " What's this? Do you have a mohawk?" I told her that the last time I was there somebody fucked it up. Didn't want to tattle but I'm guessing she knew who I was talking about. I told her what I wanted and starting to cut my hair. Now something happened that confused me. Maybe I was being paranoid but I think my barber was molesting the back and the sides of my head. I understand barbers need to touch your head (no pun intended) in order to give you a haircut, but I feel like she was crossing the line. Then out of nowhere guess who I see? The Bengali Barber. I'm going to refer to her as BB from now on to simplify things. She went to the register and took money from the person she just had given a haircut. Then she sat down in a chair. The seat was about 15 feet away from me and a bit to the right. Then she proceeded to stare at me with a "Oh, I see how it is. Don't want me to cut your hair?" look. I tried to ignore it but after a couple of minutes it really bothered me. Then she got up and stood in front of the register and said "Anybody want haircut?" Somebody approached her. Thank God. I was in the clear, or at least I thought I was. Five minutes later she returns to the register and sits back down in the same chair. Damnit woman. Take your time when cutting somebody's hair. Have you no heart? This isn't a competition. You will not make it to the Guinness Book of World Records. By now I think she knew I noticed her so she proceeded to pull out her phone and stared to text, or pretended to. I think it was a Blackberry. Not sure. My peripheral vision isn't what it used to be. Here's the thing. After about 30 seconds of "texting" she stared at me again. While she was staring at me her fingers continued to push buttons. Homegirl was taking multitasking to another level. During this entire time, including both trips she had made to and from the second room, my barber petted my head more than she cut it. She asked me where I was from, what I did, etc. I answered without hesitation. When I asked her the same questions she gave very brief and vague answers. Her mumbling didn't help the situation. Maybe she just wandered in and wanted to make some quick cash. What really bothered me was that she kept on making suggestions as to what I should do with my hair. I would respond with "I know what I'm getting. I get it all the time." Even then she would insist I do something different. I had never interacted with somebody who cared about my hair so much. She finally gave up and left me alone. This was the most intense haircut I have ever had. I had to deal with enemies from the front and the back. I don't know how I survived it. I am Baliwala. I was physically and visually violated. That is all.

Massive

Updates coming soon. Stay tuned.

I'm not religious

But this moved me

Go to school

My review of The Avengers

It was good.

Just when

You think you've figured out the game, the rules change.

When

Somebody you really want to speak with ignores you, it's a horrible feeling. Then you realize who you are and how much you don't need them, and that feeling goes away.

If

Variations of lol did not exist, most people would not be able to type and conversations online would not last more than 20 seconds.

Things

You should know about me. -I'm not funny. It's just that people around me are easily amused -I'm not good looking. It's just that women around me have low standards. -I'm not smart. It's just that people around me are stupid. -I'm not a good writer. It's just that people who see my writing have poor comprehension skills. -I'm not tall. It's just that people around me are vertically challenged. -I don't have great hygiene. It's just that people around me have body odor. -I don't sleep a lot. It's just that people around me sleep too little. -I don't study a lot. It' just that you don't study enough.

Sometimes

I wear band aids so people will think I'm tough.

Woooooooo

What

Makes a girl a slut? People usually have their own definitions, what is yours? Please leave a comment below.

Urban Dictionary Word of the day 7

molly Abr. of 'molecular'. Pure form of MDMA (ecstasy), usually a free powder or in capsules. Oftentimes MDA is sold as molly. Should be white in color (when it's pure) but is more often beige or yellow-brown, and sometimes brown or rarely gray. Me and my girl chopped a 1/2 gram of molly into 4 lines last night and we each inhaled one. rolled balls for 5 hours straight. pure love and cuddles all the way.

If you

Try to use a quote by some author, political figure, or celebrity to try and flex your intellect, fuck you. Yeah that's right. Have a big glass of shut the fuck up juice. Don't get me wrong. If you use quotes to inspire you during a difficult time or in general, there's nothing wrong with that, but if you use these quotes to try and prove your mental prowess, then chances are you don't understand the quote you are so proud of knowing. Recently I had a chat with an acquaintance through Facebook. They used a quote that was melodramatic to relate to their situation. I didn't want to say anything at first, so I decided to attack the quote rather than the person. Fair right? The quote was something along the lines of "those who have the least have the most" blah blah blah because the fear of losing anything is gone. So I said, what about homeless people for example? Society deems them to have the least of anyone, do you think they are jolly? Their response was that I was slow....WOW! Are you fucking kidding me? I brought up a valid point and since you do not understand it, I'm slow? I'm unable of comprehension? Seems like it's the other way around if anything. I am Baliwala. "In order to live humans must drink water."- Baliwala. That is all.

Do you

Stop talking to a member of the opposite sex when you find out what religion they follow? Maybe you do because you see no point in talking to them because there isn't a future i.e. being married to them, or you think you might get into arguments because of your different views. Leave a comment below.

I want a Playstation 3

So hit the donate button the right and get me one. Thanks.

Yesterday

I was in the library getting some studying done. That's right. Your boy is a studious mofo. I didn't pay attention to others around me because I was in the zone. After about 10 minutes my attention was being captivated by a two particular students. There was a table to my right filled with people, but two were speaking out loud. I quickly saw that it was a female who was Hispanic, not like it matters, but you know, just trying to enhance the visual I am creating, and the other was a recent arrival from India. I could tell he was from India because of the twang in his accent, his hairstyle, and facial features. His accent suggested he was from Delhi. His hairstyle rivaled that of a late 90's Bollywood actor trying to make a name for himself. His facial features screamed "I have visited the Ganges." I have a sixth sense for these type of things. After a few moments I went back to my studies, but their conversation grew louder. When I looked up again, I noticed something was different. I didn't take much time to figure out what it was and I went back to my notes. I couldn't focus because the conversation grew even louder so I looked back up and something was different again. After a few seconds the difference was noted. He was closer to her than he had previously been the last two times I saw them. He started out with his left shoulder being 5-6 inches away from her right shoulder, to his jaw by her earlobe. Also, a huge grin was plastered on his face. Funny thing is she didn't mind. Actually I think she was enjoying it. He might have watched too many romantic comedies and was trying to lean in with for a kiss. Damn you Sandra Bullock and Anne Hatthaway. You have given this guy false hopes. My guess is he was helping her with math because I heard "no no no no no, the ex gotta go on the buttum." He said this while giggling. She giggled as well. I wanted to watch more but I had stuff to do and I didn't want them to notice me. Also, it looked like the beginning of a low budget porno and I knew the more I watched the more likely I were to be traumatized. That's when I decided I should let Salman Khan and the fobby Selena Gomez get back to whatever they were doing. I am Baliwala. I do not use my academic prowess to pray on stupid girls. Well, that's kind of a lie. That is all.

Everyday

Is a struggle. Everyday is a fight. Everyday there is negativity. Everyday there is pain. Everyday there is frustration. Everyday there is anger. Everyday there is apprehension. Everyday there is hate. Everyday there are dark clouds. But everyday I toil and defeat the struggle. Everyday I take the punches of life's fight and still stand. Everyday my soul emits positivity. Everybody my heart bleeds endorphins. Everyday I shake the cobwebs and find answers. Everyday my smile kills the anger. Everyday I fight off the anxiety and do what needs to be done, with the knowledge that I am capable of whatever I put my mind to, and that failing is just another way of saying practice. Everyday I spread a morsel of love in my own special way; a way nobody else can. A way in which that permanently leaves an impact. Everyday I break through the darkness to find the light, even if there isn't much. I am Baliwala. I'll let the video finish the rest of this. That is all.

Hmm

How to get rid of Facebook timeline

When a girl

Says you have a hot personality, she really means you're ugly.

Fire

"Hop into the Maroon 5, it's not rock and roll, she will be loved,"

If you need

Help with your homework, let me know. I have reasonable rates. Just make sure to have a Paypal account.

Yesterday

Was rainy and cold which made me want to stay indoors, but I needed a haircut. I shrugged off my fatigue and overall laziness, and ventured to the barbershop. As soon as I entered I was relieved to see that nobody was waiting. I hate waiting for haircuts. Watching other people get serviced while you wait is like being in line at Great America. Those lucky bastards. Anyway,I saw something very strange after taking my seat. It was a man threading another man's eyebrows. He had the thread in his mouth and would bob up and down to remove the hair. I won't go into the details, but it didn't look very Adam and Eve. What made it odder was the look of the men. Now, I don't like to profile people based on their ethnicity, well that's a lie, but you know what I mean, but let's just say I wouldn't want to run into these guys in a dark alley. I was hoping the threading would be done in a prompt manner because it started before I came, but it took much longer than I had expected. The shop had another room where there were usually a few barbers. When I entered this room I immediately saw a very old woman getting a pedicure. Just great. I must have stumbled in on outlandish day. I then saw the owner who had cut my hair many times in the past, but he was busy with a customer. After taking a seat a Desi woman who was probably in her early 30's walked in. She went behind a curtain and disappeared for a few moments. When she returned I noticed that she has a huge gold-stud nose ring. Then she asked me: "Do want hairuct?" I said sure and made my way to the chair. When she put the cape around me and the white strip around my neck, I began to choke. Homegirl was trying to catch a murder case before noon. I told her I felt uncomfortable. She replied with: "Is too much tight?" I said yes and then the owner said: "Him saying is too much tight. Make looooooooose." She loosened the noose and I told her what I wanted. I got a bit scared because she was fumbling through a drawer looking for the appropriate clippers. This added to my apprehension of almost having my wind-piped crushed, and the fact that I had never visited her and wasn't sure how good she was at her job, made my anxiety heighten. When she found what she was looking for, she started to use hairspray on the machine that was to trim my hair. I thought hairspray was for hair, but what the hell do I know? She began with the top of my head. Not a bad job so far. When she got to the sides, I was pleased. When she got to the back of my head, this is where I thought things might go wrong because I couldn't see her work. Also, I don't know if I have a small head, or she has huge hands, but when she put her hand on top of my hand to get better control ( that sounded really wrong) her fingernails were damn near my earlobes. I bet she could grip a basketball with one hand. All of a sudden she stopped because the barber next to her wanted to know which beverage of that was on the ledge by the mirrors was hers. She pointed at a bottle of Evian water and said: "This mine." Then she pointed to a 20oz of Diet Coke and said:"This not mine. So that mean must be yours." Amazing deduction skills. Maybe she should give up her job and become a detective. After the haircut was done she showed me the finished product. I wasn't too happy with it, but I said I was because I wanted to get the hell out of there. By this point she had choked me, tried to crush my skull, sprayed her tools with a foreign substance, and probably had vodka in her water bottle which explained the previous incidents. I tipped her pretty well. Well, at least I think I did. The grim look on her face suggested otherwise. I am Baliwala. I go to the Motherland to my hair layered by future crime solvers named Priya Holmes. That is all.

Pic my friend took in Vancouver

The beard

A friend of mine made this

High school

Was a joke. I mean this is in a social context. This is where cliques and identities are formed to some extent, well at least that's what most people think. I was the quiet kid in school. I had some friends, but most of the people I socialized and hung out with went to other schools in different areas. I showed up to class half awake, disinterested, and mainly spoke to people who sat immediately by me. Most people thought I was high all of the time. This was not true. I was high only a few times. My high school had a large population so it was easy to blend in and go unnoticed. Many thought I was odd, and maybe they were right. the daily grind of going to class sucked the life out of me. I went to school and rapidly left. I hated that place. After graduation I kept in contact with some people. This was mainly through Facebook. After speaking to some of these people after graduation, they were surprised that I actually had a personality and was not as introverted as they originally thought. When they would ask me why I never showed this side during school, I responded with: "Well bitch, you never spoke to me. That's why." And in certain cases: "Bitch, when I tried to speak to you, you were plain rude." Also, certain rumors spread about me didn't help my cause. My point is that, as cliche as it sounds, don't judge a book by its cover. At least read the preface lol jk. You know what I mean. Do not gauge a person or their life based on an awkward stage of their existence, or on a small amount of data you have gathered yourself or through others. Do not ridicule people in the past and expect them to be your friends in the future. In my case, I have not shunned any of these people because I find that to be petty. I'm like an Oak tree. I'll always be here. Depends on you if you want to acknowledge that. We all have our ups and downs. Recent minutes, days, weeks, or even years should be taken into consideration, but if a person is humble and is willing to admit their mistakes, all ill should be forgotten. People change, especially over the span of years where various events take place, and that is something that is not recognized by many. I am Baliwala. No matter what age I am, I'll always be the coolest motherfucker you'll ever know. That is all.

It's always a good

Feeling to have a friend contact you and spark up a genuine conversation, even if it's been years of since you last spoke. Not one of those bullshit "Hey, what's up? Nm, you? Chillin." convovs, but one where somebody sincerely cares about your life and well being. You know who you are, and I appreciate you and the effort you've made. I hope to make the same effort in the same future. I am Baliwala. Thanks for not forgetting me. That is all.

Girls

How upfront are you with other guys when it comes to telling them you have a significant other? Meaning, if you strike a friendship, even casually with a male, how long do you wait to tell them you are romantically involved with somebody else? Do you think it's ok to flirt with other males while in a relationship? Do you view flirting as innocent or misleading? Please leave your responses in a comment below. Remember, you can stay anonymous.

Guys

Have you ever purposely told a girl that you had feelings for her, when you really didn't, in order to captivate her attention, or to hook up? Have you gone as far as saying you love her for these reasons? Have you told a girl you're just dating her in order to have an excuse to be with other girls? Also, have you flat out cheated. Would you marry or be in a committed relationship with a girl who wasn't a virgin or had multiple partners? Please leave your responses in the comments below. Remember, you can remain anonymous.

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Leave a comment explaining your answer.

This is called Kherwa

Here

Ufff

Huh?

My artwork

Chick

Peacock

Spiderman

Black moon with white eyes (abstract piece)

Horse

Bhanchode

Chicago

My friend Sana. Don't know which one. I know too many Sana's

Cold steak

Facebook cover photo

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