You should shoot me now!

Here's some incredibly bad poetry (written by myself) inspired by Def Poetry Jam (I'd link this, but I always end up at some site where I can't read the actual poets' poems so it seems kind of pointless.)


With Some Grapefruit
I am the great melting pot:
I’m the gook the slant the nigger the wetback the redneck the honky the camel-jockey the sandnigger the hadgie the brownie the beaner the dyke the fag the kyke and white-bread stew (with a hint of curry).
I am Indian, East Indian, East Indian Canadian, East Indian American, I am an East Indian-Canadian-American, with Indian parents born in Africa.
I am all things without being specific, and like Whitman: I filter all things from myself.
I am all ethnicities, I am an eclectic citizen knowing nothing besides assimilation.
Where do I stand and what do I mean when the son’s of those F.O.B.’s who own Dunkin Donuts call me coconut (brown on the outside, white in the middle) and they’re the ones wearing leather jackets (just so you get the reference, to Hindu’s the cow is considered sacred).
I am a chameleon assuming all roles for any occasion,
And like the Brando’s and Deniro’s, I am method:
Studying the black man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the Chinese man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the Korean man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the Arabian man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the Jewish man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the Native American man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the Indian man’s resentment towards the whites, studying the White man’s resentment towards the whites.
I see the world as it occurs around me and I don't limit my experience according to the hue of my skin, because I am hue-man. I am the great melting pot of humanity, be it American or not.
I am the world as I let it flow through me, and I let it flow through me because I am this world. I am this world and all the people it contains. I am six degrees of separation and the remains of stardust from the “Big Bang.”
I am you, while still trying to be me.
I am truth, though I sound silly.
I am love, while maintaining what I hate.
I am confused, though the rhetoric sounds great.
I am one of the few who realizes that I am you because you and I are human, more human than human, and once in a while even superhuman.
I hold on to some things and let others things go, I am an assimilation whore and damn proud to be so, because I am more complete than breakfast with a bowl full of Total Raisin Bran and a slice of toast with some grapefruit.

I am SO sorry I put you all through that.

I'm not really sure what happened there. I think I just sort of became militant and angst-ridden for no real reason other than to appear on Def Poetry Jam. I could have probably used quite a few rewrites and maybe some genuine outrage... but the fact of the matter is that you whities aren't all that bad. I mean, even my GF is of the caucasian persuasion (notice that caucasian has some asian in it?...boioioioing!)

Keeping this thing updated is freaking hard. Mostly because my life is boring and career stagnant. For instance, the highlight of today was... well, fuck there was no highlight of the day. I woke up, did some laundry, went to the grocery store, came to work, and sat on my ass for eight hours while checking out entertainment blogs. Now it's 2 minutes till quittin' time and I'm struggling to write something, anything worthwhile. (Obviously, I'm doing a piss-poor job here.)

You know what's really sad? The paragraph above was written yesterday and I still haven't come up with anything clever or witty or funny (not that any of my past postings could be characterized as any of those things.) It's like I'm on this steady downward spiral of mediocrity, but the great thing is that you are all along for the ride.

"Watch as the amazingly mundane Ronak procrastinates and allows precious opportunities pass him by!"

I suppose bitching about it doesn't really help. So, while you all read about my sorry, whiny ass, I'm going to try and do something with my life... Just after this next beer.

Maybe Emily found this funny...

Fortunatly, for any of my readers (all two of you) I have decided that my good friend Dr. Wise is no longer allowed to guest post on my blog. However, if you enjoyed his completely non-sensical ramblings, I invite you all to start a petition for him to start a site of his own. It may end up being a collection of some of the greatest surrealistic (or perhaps Dadaist...I'm sure someone knows the difference, but I'm too lazy to look it up right now) writings ever produced on the cutting edge of science. And although he feels writing is a difficult chore, I believe that TEN authentic comments/signatures in the Comments Section for this post should be sufficient for the "Doctor to Be In" (I would hyperlink the shit out of that site if it were only real...Petition, Petition, Petition!).

Dr. Wise - you have officially been challenged. (Point of note: As brilliant as this man is (though he'll never admit it, and yes, he actually is on the cutting edge of science) he still couldn't figure out the rules to Chutes & Ladders.)

Also, Dr. Wise may have to verify that link because he may be way beyond that "obsolete?" information.

Well, moving on, I found out recently that I may be just slightly more popular than I thought, (three readers instead of two) so, I am dedicating this to an "unknown" fan of mine. My sweet Emily: though I don't really know who you are, you've taken my breath away. I mean, I know my girlfriend and you are close, (keeping it in the family) but it may be a little taboo for us to have a "blogging" relationship... I'm a blogger and you a bloggie, (why haven't you Commented at all?) I'm the writer and you're the reader; I'm the guy with the girlfriend who's related to you that sent you the link, and you're the one who said: "What the fuck is she E-mailing me?... Maybe I should click on it..." And you did click on it, and now there's more pressure on me than ever to be somewhat amusing, but in the end I 'm just praying: "Maybe Emily found this funny..."

I hope you did.

P.S. Emily may or may not be a semi-toothless Asian woman as seen above.

Post-Birthday Posting

Guest writer here, Dr. Wise (I'm a Bioengineer - possibly on the cutting of science. Or at least on the cutting edge of poontang. Or whatev). Ronak is a little bit, um, shall we say tired. No, we shan't. (yes, "shan't" is a word - I think) As a matter a fact, he's feeling pretty awesome, actually awesomely inebriated. Don't hold it against him - it was his Birthday. Alright, maybe you can hold something against him. Maybe some voluptious boobs, or even a big round bootylicious ass. Just make sure it's not moist. Except maybe a moist towellette. He might need that after the five White Castles with "special sauce" that slid through his fingers and down his throat. Hey, they call them sliders for a reason, right? So,um,...anyway, we met up, ate some awesome Chinese food, then made out with our awesome girlfriends, respectively. Subsequently, we arrived at an awesome local pub, where we awesomely indulged in Budweiser pints while playing some awesome games of darts. Some awesomeness ensued, however, this...is to be continued. Right now we must get some awesome sleep. Sweet dreams my awesome peeps. (oh, by they way, if you didn't notice - we kind of had an awesome time)

Today is the 26th anniversary of my birth...

Because of this fact, all should celebrate the blessing that is my arrival into this world. You should all go out and rejoice in the fact that another year has passed with the inclusion of my existence. Just think about it... without me certain friendships wouldn't exist, there would be no witty, entertaining , amusing, humorous, popular, awe-inspiring blog to comment on, there would be no spectacular boyfriend to love, there would be no bald , handsome intellect to laugh with (or at, because Chris Baumann is a douche bag). This day is almost like the second coming of Christ, only without the judgment and brimstone, plus I can't wear a beard (it gets all patchy and weird looking).

Four little words...

Eggo fuckin' Waffle Cereal. I discovered this cereal last week and was so freaking blown away that I hadn't posted anything for 5 days. I just sat there eating bowl after bowl of deliciously crunchy, faux maple flavored nuggets of miniaturized "waffles." After five or so bowls I decided to add some milk. Then all hell broke loose. This shit was unbelievable. I'd had some great cereals before (Cinnamon Toast Crunch usually topping the list of All Time Greats/Favorites), but now we had a new contender. The moment you open up the box this bad boy brings you back to blissful childhood with a rush of maple syrup tantalizing your olfactory receptors. Take a whiff and I dare you to tell me it doesn't remind you of a plate of hot Eggo waffles straight from the toaster, or at least that high fructose corn syrup artificially modified to taste something like maple syrup from some cabin in Vermont that you used to drown them in (because in all honesty, who's parents actually bought "real" maple syrup (go to hell Joel)). You've got to try this if for nothing else but to reconnect with some part of your pre-pubescent life through a bowl, some milk and sweetened, processed grain product. It does nothing less than conjure up some idea of youth and childhood and innocence that you've left behind a long time ago. Eggo Waffle Cereal with Maple Syrup is a sweetened time-machine that's part of a "healthy", flashback inducing breakfast that tastes like an edible morning sunrise looks like it might taste like...rich, and warm and chock full of morning sunshine goodness.. Now, I know the idea of nostalgic breakfast foods seems a bit cliche (actually very cliche: Boo Berry, Cap'n Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, etc.), but you have to realize that Eggo Waffle Cereal with Maple Syrup rocks. Of course that's just one man's opinion...just check out what this assbag thinks of them - http://jefitoblog.com/blog/?p=574. Notice that this douchebag said, and I quote: "...I knew that frozen waffles were for dogs and poor people." If you've tapped that link I hope you also commented about what a complete shit-stain he is. "L'eggo my eggo," asshole and I'll fuck your shit up with the taste of fake maple syrup. That's about all for now so...peace... (except to that butthole who not only insulted me, but perhaps also quite a great section of the American (and maybe Canadian) populace.... Fuck him.


P.S. "Am I smooshing you?" may be the funniest thing you've ever enjoyed hearing, if only you were me (and someone else I really like).

Update to the previous post:

My girlfriend keeps looking at me weird.

Feast on this:

If anyone read the comment from yesterday about my not having shown the chicks at work about my splits it's because I ran out of time...plus I was tired...plus my jeans were too tight. I was, however, highly complimented on the size and smell of my sausage. As the story goes I was on my break looking for something to fill my belly and please my palate. I was at the grocery store on the phone with my girlfriend when I saw my sausage. It was then that I knew I had to have it. I saw that the sausage I wanted had a partner and conferred with my girlfriend: "Aren't two sausages too many?", but once I had that package in my hands I knew I'd be satisfied. Although I am Indian the sausage I was holding was Polish, but it didn't bother me because I am totally into multiculturalism and interracial relations, just ask my girlfriend. I got back to the office and in the kitchen I pulled out my sausage for everyone to see, but no one was in there. So I was all alone with my sausage in my hands. I put my meaty sausage into a hot, wet place (a large container of water) and set the microwave to 3 minutes which I knew would be just enough time for me to be satisfied. I had come...out of the kitchen and sat down at my desk with my hot, steamy sausage and placed it right down, exposed for everyone to see. It was then that I got the compliments: One co-worker said "You've got a really big sausage," and another said "Ohh, that smells good, I can smell your sausage all the way down the hall." Then another co-worker asked if a lot of people compliment about me about my sausage...then she mentioned something about an harrasment suit being filed against her, and I thought to myself why would someone do that? She was just talking about a plate of my big, thick tube-steak. I was ready to put my sausage where my mouth was, but I wasn't sure if I'd like it. Once it was in my mouth it wasn't so bad: I wouldn't spit it out, I actually wanted to swallow it. All in all I'm not sure that sausage it the best thing to eat. It's tasty and delicious, but most guys should shy away from it... Just think of the cholesterol.

Tomorrow I hope to get some Tang and grab some melons. It seems like I'm always hungry for one thing or another.

Fifteen minutes to go...

I'm sitting here with fifteen minutes left at work and I realized I haven't written anything worthwhile. Not that I had any time to actually think of anything to post... I'm starting to really get bogged down here. There was a time when I would have hours on end to do nothing but putz around online. Now I have to do real work, well not real work, just a lot of projects... but now I'm just complaining which a good blog does not make.

I ate gnocchi for dinner - now that was f*#king exciting.

P.S. I was totally called out by the chicks I work with... I suck at the splits. (In my defense, however, it was like 12:30 in the morning, I had been sitting on my ass at my desk all night, nor did I get to warm up or anything.) Tomorrow I will stretch and wear loose fitting pants or biker shorts, I haven't decided yet.