Lyrics for "Typical Girls" by the Slits
These lyrics by a girl punk band from the 70's and 80's called the Slits chime with my experience.
Women do seem odd a lot of the time, not having grown up with any (apart from mum gawwd bless 'er) I think I can notice their oddities more. I am glad I aint alone in my impression- and that it's shared by women too!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Ramadahan: A time for reflection.
Mate: My ex had iftaari in a pub
Me: Reespec'
Mate: Dont say that!!
Me: That would confuse the taliban, I am sure they would say mashallah then slap him.
Mate: That is so bad though
Me: As long as he didn't break his fast with a whiskey
Mate: Yeah but still!! It’s so silly though, but he doesn’t see it, he needs to grow up.
Me: I dunno it doesn't seem bad to me.
Mate: Serious?
Me: Yeah. He is adhering to the fast and doing it in the right spirit without drinking spirit. It's what's in the mind not what surrounding ya. I can see breaking a fast in a strip joint aint right cos you can't avoid consuming the service, but in a pub you don't have to drink…if ya know what I mean.
Mate: I know but you're supposed to avoid places like that in ramdahan right
Me: Wot pubs? Pubs aint haraam, havin' bangers and mash and a pint to wash it down in a pub is.
Mate: OK mebbe im seeing things differently ‘ere.
Me: Apologise to him!
Mate: No cos he’d love that.
Me: I bet you gave him a right ear bashing.
Mate: I did yeah!
Me: Do it! Say sorry
Mate: NO WAY! he will go on about it forever (she laughs)
Me: I feel for the guy, this moany bird on his case.
Mate: Oi! I aint moany. Take that back! Apologise to me this instant!
Me: No, you'd laaave it!
I am not sure what we learnt, apart from: If you avoid saying “sorry” no one has to lose.
Me: Reespec'
Mate: Dont say that!!
Me: That would confuse the taliban, I am sure they would say mashallah then slap him.
Mate: That is so bad though
Me: As long as he didn't break his fast with a whiskey
Mate: Yeah but still!! It’s so silly though, but he doesn’t see it, he needs to grow up.
Me: I dunno it doesn't seem bad to me.
Mate: Serious?
Me: Yeah. He is adhering to the fast and doing it in the right spirit without drinking spirit. It's what's in the mind not what surrounding ya. I can see breaking a fast in a strip joint aint right cos you can't avoid consuming the service, but in a pub you don't have to drink…if ya know what I mean.
Mate: I know but you're supposed to avoid places like that in ramdahan right
Me: Wot pubs? Pubs aint haraam, havin' bangers and mash and a pint to wash it down in a pub is.
Mate: OK mebbe im seeing things differently ‘ere.
Me: Apologise to him!
Mate: No cos he’d love that.
Me: I bet you gave him a right ear bashing.
Mate: I did yeah!
Me: Do it! Say sorry
Mate: NO WAY! he will go on about it forever (she laughs)
Me: I feel for the guy, this moany bird on his case.
Mate: Oi! I aint moany. Take that back! Apologise to me this instant!
Me: No, you'd laaave it!
I am not sure what we learnt, apart from: If you avoid saying “sorry” no one has to lose.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Old Karachi Weirdness (Part 1)
Not able to sleep, the excitement of the new surroundings making me twitch, such a contrast from what I know back home. It’s no good, I stroll out from the alley at the side of the nihari master’s shop and out into the madly narrow midnight streets of old Karachi.
To my left is the weird sight of shiny expensive motors jammed into the street. Expensive non-battered cars just don’t venture into this part of town. Seems some rich kids from Defense colony are up to something. I come to a halt and begin hearing the muffled thud of bass.
A red Merc blocks my path, so I walk around the streets finding an alternative route. There are no street lights just the odd protruding weak light bulb randomly protruding from a shop front. Quite eerie, especially with the distant sound of the chokidaar blowing his whistle, the way it tapers off has a touch of sadness about it. Instead of silence it soon disappears to become repetitive bass, becoming louder with each step. I try not to move in time but it’s hard. Coming closer I see a few more shiny cars, one with its headlights on, sitting on the bonnet are a girl and a boy. As I approach they are framed between the featureless walls of two tired buildings. I can’t help but take a mental snapshot. Click: The carefree rich sharing a cigarette and a joke in their beautiful clothes sitting on a mint 4 by 4 raising them high above the city filth.
As I come close they glance at me and then carry on chatting. Kind of a relief. I walk towards the doorway to check out the party. A small group of lads and a woman look confused, then tense, then angry and I wait for things to develop.
"Eh yahan kya kaam hain tumarra?" Hmm, bit disrespectful. It did make me aware of my creased grey shalwar khameez and their designer gear.
"Just wandering about."
"Ah, you are from London?" I saw smiles now and noticed a surprising number of piercings.
"Yeah. What's going on? Any special occassion?"
"One of our close friends has just come back from the U.S.- he has completed his MBA." Someone interrupts for the sake of it... "And we are celebrating"
"Cool, can I go in..look around?"
"Ya ya."
I ventured in, then realised one of the chaps was accompanying me, he had taken the role of smiling guide. Music was not the soft rock that seemed to be favoured by my cousins, it was big beat, dance and house. Fat Boy Slim and the like. The place was decorated beautifully with fabrics draped here and there, soft colours, seemed much less industrial than the clubs back home. Got some strange looks owing to my clothes but things seemed cool. My guide decided I should meet a friend of his.
"Umar yeh, ek londonstani seh millo"
"Hello, Hello teek taak?"
"Teek Taak"
Once I told him my name he asked what I did there, all the perfunctory stuff. Then he asked if I heard of "Jugarr". My confused look was his cue:
Jugarr is when you pay someone a cut and as if by magic a job considered impossible some how gets done. The girl beside him betrays a little smile but seems intent on just reclining an taking in her surroundings rather than listening intently. Serene and sophisticated. Umar continued..
"An ambassador from America, I mean an American Ambassador had an S-Class Mercedes, one of the only ones in Karachi. As he was driving along, something went wrong with it. So he showed a mechanic. Mechanic said it was impossible to fix, it needs a Mercedes part and there are no Mercedes Garages in Pakistan. The Ambassador asked what he could do. The mechanic said you'll have to ship the car to Dubai, the problem is they'll keep the car for a few weeks. This was no good for the Amabassador. "Look what we can do said the mechanic is use jugaarr. The part costs about 80,000 rupees you give me 100,000 and I will use jugaarr. You will get your car in a few days."
"The ambassador got his repaired car and was pleased and asked how the mechanic did it. The reply was "jugaarr". Curious, the ambassador wanted to know what it was.
"Look it's just Jugaarr" said the mechanic."
"A couple of months later Musharraf visited Bush at the Whitehouse. And Bush asks: "We hear Pakistan has some new technology...what is this jugaarr?"
We laughed, his laugh was surprisingly high-pitched which made me laugh more.
To my left is the weird sight of shiny expensive motors jammed into the street. Expensive non-battered cars just don’t venture into this part of town. Seems some rich kids from Defense colony are up to something. I come to a halt and begin hearing the muffled thud of bass.
A red Merc blocks my path, so I walk around the streets finding an alternative route. There are no street lights just the odd protruding weak light bulb randomly protruding from a shop front. Quite eerie, especially with the distant sound of the chokidaar blowing his whistle, the way it tapers off has a touch of sadness about it. Instead of silence it soon disappears to become repetitive bass, becoming louder with each step. I try not to move in time but it’s hard. Coming closer I see a few more shiny cars, one with its headlights on, sitting on the bonnet are a girl and a boy. As I approach they are framed between the featureless walls of two tired buildings. I can’t help but take a mental snapshot. Click: The carefree rich sharing a cigarette and a joke in their beautiful clothes sitting on a mint 4 by 4 raising them high above the city filth.
As I come close they glance at me and then carry on chatting. Kind of a relief. I walk towards the doorway to check out the party. A small group of lads and a woman look confused, then tense, then angry and I wait for things to develop.
"Eh yahan kya kaam hain tumarra?" Hmm, bit disrespectful. It did make me aware of my creased grey shalwar khameez and their designer gear.
"Just wandering about."
"Ah, you are from London?" I saw smiles now and noticed a surprising number of piercings.
"Yeah. What's going on? Any special occassion?"
"One of our close friends has just come back from the U.S.- he has completed his MBA." Someone interrupts for the sake of it... "And we are celebrating"
"Cool, can I go in..look around?"
"Ya ya."
I ventured in, then realised one of the chaps was accompanying me, he had taken the role of smiling guide. Music was not the soft rock that seemed to be favoured by my cousins, it was big beat, dance and house. Fat Boy Slim and the like. The place was decorated beautifully with fabrics draped here and there, soft colours, seemed much less industrial than the clubs back home. Got some strange looks owing to my clothes but things seemed cool. My guide decided I should meet a friend of his.
"Umar yeh, ek londonstani seh millo"
"Hello, Hello teek taak?"
"Teek Taak"
Once I told him my name he asked what I did there, all the perfunctory stuff. Then he asked if I heard of "Jugarr". My confused look was his cue:
Jugarr is when you pay someone a cut and as if by magic a job considered impossible some how gets done. The girl beside him betrays a little smile but seems intent on just reclining an taking in her surroundings rather than listening intently. Serene and sophisticated. Umar continued..
"An ambassador from America, I mean an American Ambassador had an S-Class Mercedes, one of the only ones in Karachi. As he was driving along, something went wrong with it. So he showed a mechanic. Mechanic said it was impossible to fix, it needs a Mercedes part and there are no Mercedes Garages in Pakistan. The Ambassador asked what he could do. The mechanic said you'll have to ship the car to Dubai, the problem is they'll keep the car for a few weeks. This was no good for the Amabassador. "Look what we can do said the mechanic is use jugaarr. The part costs about 80,000 rupees you give me 100,000 and I will use jugaarr. You will get your car in a few days."
"The ambassador got his repaired car and was pleased and asked how the mechanic did it. The reply was "jugaarr". Curious, the ambassador wanted to know what it was.
"Look it's just Jugaarr" said the mechanic."
"A couple of months later Musharraf visited Bush at the Whitehouse. And Bush asks: "We hear Pakistan has some new technology...what is this jugaarr?"
We laughed, his laugh was surprisingly high-pitched which made me laugh more.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Put in a track/artist you like and get an online Jukebox
Pandora Internet Radio
Put in the name of a track or artist and this site analyses the chord structures, the way the melody is done, and the mixture of acoustic, electric and vocal sounds and outputs a bunch of tracks that fits, then plays them for you. It works very well and is based on the Music Genome project. The interface is cool too.
Some clever people out there.
Put in the name of a track or artist and this site analyses the chord structures, the way the melody is done, and the mixture of acoustic, electric and vocal sounds and outputs a bunch of tracks that fits, then plays them for you. It works very well and is based on the Music Genome project. The interface is cool too.
Some clever people out there.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
I may be annoying but at least I exist.
Friend: I AM modern!
Me: Do you have i-pod innit?
Friend: No I don't.
Me: Hmmm falling at the first hurdle.
Friend: Go on try something else.
Me: Were you into Sex and the City?.
Friend: Yes, loved it.
Me: K, have you bought Jimmy Choos?
Friend: Nope.
Me: Hmmm. Read cosmo?
Friend: Have done. But not a regular reader of it.
Me: I am sorry you do not fit into the media driven perpective of human females. Therefore I conclude you do not exist and are just a figment of my imagination. Are you a furry elephant?
Friend: (Sigh) Yes well done. You're always difficult.
Me: You is Dr Snufflufflegus innit!
Friend: You're just used to having da last word dats all.
Me: Dats all +1
I then do a prolonged victory dance. It involves much pointing at close quarters. I also imitate a mosquito to add extra creepiness.
She doesn't weep, but does look at her shoes.
Me: Do you have i-pod innit?
Friend: No I don't.
Me: Hmmm falling at the first hurdle.
Friend: Go on try something else.
Me: Were you into Sex and the City?.
Friend: Yes, loved it.
Me: K, have you bought Jimmy Choos?
Friend: Nope.
Me: Hmmm. Read cosmo?
Friend: Have done. But not a regular reader of it.
Me: I am sorry you do not fit into the media driven perpective of human females. Therefore I conclude you do not exist and are just a figment of my imagination. Are you a furry elephant?
Friend: (Sigh) Yes well done. You're always difficult.
Me: You is Dr Snufflufflegus innit!
Friend: You're just used to having da last word dats all.
Me: Dats all +1
I then do a prolonged victory dance. It involves much pointing at close quarters. I also imitate a mosquito to add extra creepiness.
She doesn't weep, but does look at her shoes.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
SpiderySnake
Snakes or spiders eh? What do you prefer? Eh!? (poke, poke)
Now this is my approach to this vexed question that has haunted man through the ages. Oh by the way, please do not be worried by my rigorous scientific approach. I shall be using layman's terms to make this accessible to the most casual reader. Back to the issue at hand:
Yeah what if you had this transmogrification device yeah…and like you got this snake and this well hairy spider and then pulled the lever (making sure you put on your goggles).
Then you get this half-snake, half-spider. Having considered this whilst puffing on my pipe, I find I would prefer having the creature to have spider head and snake bum. This is because snake head is more scary, their faces simply look more evil. Therefore spiders are preferable to snakes. Also it would be funny ( in a scientific way) to see those spidery legs trying to keep up with the snake body. So spiders can be funny which makes them score above snakes too. I hope this revolutionary thought experiment approach settles this perennial question.
Now this is my approach to this vexed question that has haunted man through the ages. Oh by the way, please do not be worried by my rigorous scientific approach. I shall be using layman's terms to make this accessible to the most casual reader. Back to the issue at hand:
Yeah what if you had this transmogrification device yeah…and like you got this snake and this well hairy spider and then pulled the lever (making sure you put on your goggles).
Then you get this half-snake, half-spider. Having considered this whilst puffing on my pipe, I find I would prefer having the creature to have spider head and snake bum. This is because snake head is more scary, their faces simply look more evil. Therefore spiders are preferable to snakes. Also it would be funny ( in a scientific way) to see those spidery legs trying to keep up with the snake body. So spiders can be funny which makes them score above snakes too. I hope this revolutionary thought experiment approach settles this perennial question.
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