P2483

P2482

P2481 Four robbers

There once were four robbers keen, 

Who chose the wrong day for their scheme.

They went to rob a bank, 

But found a long line and they sank.

The bank had run, rage was the theme.

The robbers were starting to fret, 

As they watched each customer they met.

Their plan had gone wrong, 

As they waited so long.

And their patience began to sweat.

But just when they thought they'd go mad,

The fed chief made them glad.

He said, "Why don't you stay, 

We're open all day, 

And you can join our rescue squad!"

The robbers swallowed their sin,

As the FDIC welcomed them in.

They traded their erstwhile fame, 

For teller name.

Now the cops were their kin.

And so they worked at the bank, 

Counting bills as the bank sank.

Their robbing days done,

A new life begun, 

Their names George, Simon, Bluster and Frank.

P2480

P2479

P2478 Bank Run

Three banks down and who knows how many more to go. It's like a financial disaster movie, but without the special effects budget.

A bank run is like a virus that spreads faster than an STD in a brothel. People start getting nervous and before you know it, everyone and their grandma is pulling their money out of the bank. And it's not just the bank that suffers, the whole damn economy gets the shakes. It's like a domino effect, one bank goes down and it takes the rest of them with it.

The effects of a bank run are like a bad rash, they just keep spreading. The markets get skittish, banks stop lending, and the government has to step in and play gyno doctor. And let's not forget the social consequences, people start getting antsy, lines form outside banks, and tempers flare. It's like Black Friday, but without the discounted TVs.

In some countries, a bank failure can mean political suicide. People start losing faith in the government and start looking for someone to blame. And I tell you, when people start looking for someone to blame, they usually find them.

The aftermath of a bank run is like a hangover that just won't go away. Even if the government manages to restore order, the damage is done. It takes time to repair the damage to the financial system and to regain the trust of the people. And let's not forget the social and political fallout, protests, strikes, and civil unrest. It's like the Wild West, but without the saloons and the horses. 

If you're feeling lucky, go ahead and leave your money in the bank. But if you're feeling like a gambler, it might be time to start looking for a new mattress to stuff your cash in. Just make sure it's a comfy one, because you might be sleeping on it for a while.

P2477

P2476

P2475 Sometimes...

Sometimes, I feel like my mind is a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions, all jumbled up and impossible to untangle. It's like I'm lost in a fog, unable to see beyond the haze of my own feelings.

It's a frustrating experience, to say the least. I try to reason with myself, to impose some sense of order on the chaos, but it never seems to work. The more I try to force my thoughts into submission, the more they slip away from me.

And yet, despite the exasperation, there's a strange beauty to it all. Like a kaleidoscope of colors, my emotions blend together in a way that's both confusing and captivating.

It's in those moments of uncertainty that I find myself drawn to introspection. I sit quietly with my thoughts, observing them without judgment, waiting for the fog to lift.

And eventually, it does. The haze clears, and I can see my thoughts for what they really are: a jumble of ideas and emotions that are as beautiful as they are complex.

I think that's the key to unlocking the full potential of our inner selves: to embrace the ambiguity of our thoughts and feelings and to allow ourselves the time and space to explore them fully. to accept the imperfection of our inner monologues or at least try to understand them.

It's not always an easy process, but it's a necessary one. Because only by confronting the complexities of our own minds can we hope to find our place in the world. Maybe I am going mad; these aren't the kinds of thoughts people write about if they are normal, at this time of the night, or if they have a life.

But I force myself to take a moment to sit with my thoughts, to soak up the mystery of my mind's hidden corridors. For it is there that I can hope to find the courage to truly know who I am. Maybe to live my life with purpose and direction, or even if like Albert Camus I accept the inherent meaninglessness of it, at least not leave it unexamined like the hedonist billions that are fast asleep adrift in their hallucinations of improvisational meaning and a fictionalized gamified life.

 

P2474

P2473 I give you that star

I give you that star I swear, 

Just vote for me.

Anything you wish is yours, 

Once you wish me in, you see.

Plus the gods of the other group, 

Is evil as hell, as a hindoo I always feel. 

I was in a dream decided by your chosen, 

To be the one to your future seal.

I alone your maggot infested carrion feed,

I alone rape, kill and loot.

Once elected to this honorable chair, 

You'll only hear my prerecorded poot.

My team of nationalist assholes, 

Are rewinding history. 

Rewriting and renaming parts, 

Fabricating shit from memory. 

I aspire to fuck your tonsils out,

By parliamentary oratory skills. 

Want my drawing room designed, 

With citizen cadavers and kills.

I gorge on gore, my harem of whores,

Diabolical the diorama of my kin.

The issues facing the nation, 

Solved by forcing youth into various sin.

Chicks can get paid to suck dicks,

Dicks can get hooked and high.

Education banned or diluted by myth,

Religion, superstition or plain lie.

Taxidermy museum of opposition heads,

Yes you read my thoughts alright. 

A secret dungeon for enslaved girls,

Minors with intact cunts tight.

Honest people have their eyes gouged out,

I make sure they cannot see.

With a cricket bat you lose your teeth, 

If you think speech in India is free.

I piss on democracy, 

My goons shit inside your mouth. 

I start hate campaigns in the gullible north,

And proceed to the inhospitable south. 

If your bullshit god forbid, I don't get elected, 

I'll piss a fuming acid pool.

Goons will fuck your pretty daughters, 

And hit the ugly ones till they drool.

I shoot shit and your sons, 

I make sure no one lives to break free.

I'll cut defiant balls for display, 

And hang them on the holy bunyan tree.

As Indians no respite from this shit,

A boring wisecrack this or bumbling lecture that.

You're fucked the moment you were born. 

Vomit vote or tit for murderous tat.

Fuck off in hell I tell, 

And I control the flow you know. 

I make sure in hell you justly reap,

The fuck I toil on earth to sow.

P2472

P2471 I've bad breath

A good french kiss I like,

But can't afford a decent whore.

The unpaid one shit in my mouth, 

To settle her shitty score.

I've bad breath since then, and bad teeth,

So if bitch I ain't good enough for you...

Guess what that's alright, 

I'm getting high on wood glue.

It's cheap, and I weep,

It makes me so happy I cry.

I forget who I am or where my dick is,

I've asked other poor ugly guys to try.

Well we've got no money, no honey, 

The cunts are always complaining. 

Gives me a headache so I sniff glue,

That's really my only thing.

Fuck my ass for being loony,

But I'm not cracked on the wrong side.

Besides I'm not an asshole, 

Just depressed and high I confide.

P2470

P2469

P2468 I ate holy shit

I ate holy shit, mixed platter,

A really wholly holy shit for Holi.

Turds from jesus, krishna, and the one,

Who the bengali call kali.

Few from other exotic faiths, 

And their most revered gods.

I'm sure this includes the naked greeks,

And the you-can't-see-my-pic with anal rods.

A plateful of irrationality and superstition, 

Bullshit of the best jurassic find.

My shit coated tongue holier than thou,

Holy worms in the feces are kind. 

Just the smell, the stench,

Makes me cry holy onion tears of joy.

I want to throw my arms, 

As I dip the turds in soy.

In a relay race we hand batons,

But here it's god's goodly turd.

Generations learn from their parents, 

Why stupidity isn't so hard.

Oy I love this orgy of a shit platter, 

My gastronomic dream fulfilled. 

It's customary these days with religiosity, 

To keep loading until your own shit is spilled. 

In our world today, to do anything,

It's important to lick puckered assholes, 

Why not develop shit taste with the gods, 

That lead being nefarious amongst all trolls?

With gods goodly shit verily justify any shit,

Murder, genocide, rape, gangrape.

Lying becomes A-OK, gangrene so golden, 

And infinite lifetimes to escape. 

You become one of the tolerated fools,

And then super viral in minds you dwell.

Maybe on web3 you aspire to spin-up shit,

Now with ambitious cum your balls swell.

Holy holy holy so cool this Holi,

I shit my pants lucrative yellow. 

That with my pious piss makes me,

A really holy yellow fellow. 💛 

P2467

P2466

P2465

P2464

P2463

P2462 Sadist

I let people piss on me, for free,

I am such a noble man.

In fact I'll implement a way to shit,

Inside my mouth instead of a pan.

A great man I am drenched in piss,

I try hard as you can see.

I control the flow with a circular tap,

I say hallelujah gods keep fucking me.

I have gaped my asshole to fit,

An army of devil cocks. 

Right now to keep it open,

I keep it stuffed with socks.

Piss on me, shit on me, vomit oh yeah,

I am a true rarity a man shitty.

My cock has shrunk it was an elephant trunk,

All I have are memories and pity.

Women, wine and white sugar,

I used for masturbation in my days.

Now lonely and alone, finger my asshole, 

Or flick my nipple like gays. 

Sweet was the age of battering ass,

Sweeter now the memory of it.

I stand here and think about the times,

Emotionally I may have shit.

P2461

P2460

P2459 My snot

My snot is worth a lot,

At least once it hits web three.

Web two fucked my ass,

By making my shit all free.

The gods are good, the rich get food,

While the rest just fucking pray. 

So sweet the farts that tweet, 

Every god sponsors his own fray. 

Well things are going to stir, I confer, 

Trade is going to be harsh.

You'll have trust and obscenity, 

But in line for a toothbrush. 

Corrupt and selfish get high fives,

They celebrate with scotch on the rock.

The honest and ordinary tied to laws,

Must always suck many a cock.

Loot and poot, or just plain shoot, 

Fuck the common man.

The main theme: Fuck each other,

Why not if you can?

Fuck my ass if it ain't true, 

Tell me I can't sell my snot.

I'll sell stale boogers and shit,

Piss, vomit and fuck knows what not.

P2458 You go vote

You go vote,

Or I fuck your throat, 

Understand the point, 

My men break joint. 

You go vote.

Two rupee plus tiffin,

Discount kerosene paraffin. 

Send son to party office, 

He can drink my piss.

And tongue my shit in.

Any female or gay escapist?

Just hired a new open minded rapist.

That way no dowry to give, 

He rapes and kills, you live.

Even the dead we fist.

Don't make me come again, 

This time bad pain.

Your asshole holy fuck,

All my men you suck.

Jai Ho, chalo then.

P2457

P2456

P2455

P2454

P2453

P2452

P2451

P2450

P2449

P2448 My piss yellow

My piss yellow, I'm a nasty fellow, 

Nobody likes me.

I feel sad, and frankly quite mad,

My asshole is belligerent and itchy. 

The gods behind cloud, fart very loud,

I can't sleep at night. 

My head is flat, I like that,

My shit comes out sorta tight.

I like to dance, or romance, 

But no miss wants to kiss.

They don't like buck teeth,

So I say fuck off and hiss.

I want to be a holy man,

To fuck the faith around. 

The idea is: In open gullible mouths,

To shit with a harumphing sound.

Or a leader of some sort,

With a department to do-good enmasse.

I'll just randomly pick citizens,

And fuck them all in their ass.

I have a complex about my dick,

It doesn't hang that long.

My shit can murder a town with smell,

But I don't like my small smelly schlong. 

Maybe I'll buy a lottery ticket, 

Or marry a whore who's got gold. 

Really can't wait to fuck around, 

I'm growing crusty fucking old. 

P2447 Match

Oh look three poles match three holes,

The gods shit with joy. 

Now we drink the mix of our piss,

Before we become more coy. 

It's fate, this date, I mate,

My sperm knocks you up.

At the wedding we claim you a virgin,

Like Mary you piss in a special cup.

The sweetness of love like nectar,

Drops like drops of snot.

On our wedding night I promise, 

We shall shit in the holiest pot.

We'll invite the gods to the party,

Their blessings are needed no?

Every year we'll fuck vigorously, 

And send to their harem a ho.

P2446 Chanakya/Goon

 

Most people in my Indian misadventures fell primarily into two categories. And again, this is a simplification; human nature is far more nuanced. 

One type seemed to be the Chanakya incarnate, or, to the western mind, the Machiavellian type. Sniveling, furtive, and scheming, they are always mollycoddling with an ambrosia of sweet deceit and a permanent post-ejaculatory grin pasted on their faces. 

The other type is the goon character, who really wants to break something to prove a point, or that's where his paycheck is coming from, and although inside a very insecure and usually uneducated man, on the surface a pretend character with whatever the desired level of gung-ho, masculinity, and false bravado.

And then there is the hybrid. This desi possesses the cunning and calling of Chanakya, along with the aggression and alacrity of the goon. This masala makes them a formidable adversary, as they are not only capable of manipulating situations to their own gain but also willing to resort to whatever is necessary. Plus, this hybrid type exhibits a complete lack of empathy and regard for others.

What's interesting is that there are now thousands of unorganized East India companies that these guys report to—an unreported national silent subjugation that doesn't raise the hackles as it comes with handouts of nationalism or under some other regional garb. And even more conveniently, in Hindu mythology, the gods and demons are guaranteed equal respect, just in case we end up badly. This sort of makes us lenient in our approach to their avatars in our midst. 

While some individuals may exhibit traits of these two types or a mix of them, it is essential to recognize that people are complex and multifaceted. It's not my intention to strengthen stereotypes, but just a snapshot of my unique experiences.

 

P2445 I'm perennially pissed

I'm perennially pissed, my life I missed, 

I blame myself more than anyone other.

Something in my mind, puts me in a bind,

Inside me lives a stress brother.

Nothing I do pleases me true,

Just a mad flutter, rush and roar.

Surfing the phone from pussy to acetone,

Until I can't take it anymore.

The days repeat, exact cycles,

The freedom is seldom really "free".

I'm afraid to break the isolation, 

The world's out there to get me.

I don't drink a lot of water,

The urine yellow is a printer's dream. 

The constipation gets bad at times,

I use amul butter as a lubricant cream.

Life on stage, bickering I overhear, 

The neighborhood thrust alive.

People going on like ants, about and on,

While I hang precariously in the hive. 

It's not that my balls are shriveled small,

Or my ambitions map to zero.

Didn't measure up to the undergrowth, 

My pubic hair still thinks I'm a hero.

The world is overcrowded with success, 

I guess morons like me are needed.

Just wasted turds unwanted scrap,

Dreams that went mostly unheeded. 

But fuck everyone I say,

Just happy with my curated cesspool. 

Be happy where you are, whatever, 

Just let me be the discontented fool.

I often finger my piss, to split it into two,

Just playing around with chance. 

But the stream today is persistent, 

Couldn't get my piss to dance. 

Time for my meds, and sleep,

And dream the life I've lived.

That's all my brain does, shit and vomit, 

When my senses are deceived. 

I'm suffocated by the layers of stuffy idiocy, 

I wish I could be an adequate asshole. 

Or a breast thumping overconfident fuck, 

Depression of failure leaks into my soul. 

I need to shit but clogged asshole, 

Sucking religious cocks makes a sissy. 

Always a few bombs going off, 

I just feel so pissy.

P2444 I stir my rod

I stir my rod, it's my god, 

It's limp almost the entire year. 

Sometimes at a slant angle it revives, 

I milk it fondly singing "my dear".

Well I am almost half a hundred years, 

The springs aren't spruce anymore. 

Plus I don't have money, 

To practice love with a whore.

The ejaculate leaks like a fugitive, 

Furtive and watery in guile.

I'm sure I can't be a father,

Even if I fucked every girl in a mile.

Ah that dream, and many manly dreams,

I am a tiger orgasmic at heart.

But eviscerated and refractive the tiger,

The head a balloon with my fart.

P2443 Our government will ensure

Our government will ensure, 

No real education for the masses. 

Easier a complete stupid takeover, 

Drink scruples with molasses. 

We'll ensure polity operates in AC,

Outside India in clean luxury. 

We'll sell the poverty documentaries, 

To BBC for (hidden charges) free.

Already everyone in India knows, 

Democracy is a curious circus joke.

Every election a poor majority is paid,

Or forced to vote a decided bloke.

The bloke and his kith and kin,

Then become the king almighty.

Overnight everything becomes autocratic, 

You get it stupid, all righty!

The fools cherish words spoken, 

And forget the actions that never follow. 

Every year, and year after year,

The promises ring more hollow.

Most citizens with truant amnesia, 

Attend to needs of personal line.

Every selfish motive breeds more,

And unity is just a lyric and rhyme.

India is a country of contrast, 

Contradiction, goons, and brute force.

The miasma of filth and pus is real,

The immoral corruptions to the course.

People have no true power,

Just a sham symbolic speck.

They are born in caste and creed,

And die to go to an Indian heck.

P2442 Still good looking

I'm still good looking I think,

The silence makes it stink a bit.

I don't have anyone to talk to,

And no one wants to listen to my shit. 

Deep in the earth I lie alone, 

My body long decayed and gone. 

My flesh consumed by worms and rot, 

Only me and my memories, a wretched lot.

Life and death or the interwoven state,

That's not experienced by most.

Well I stuck around to teach a lesson, 

To my kith and kin - the human compost.

My putrid eyes stare out bleak, 

Where once my vision held life unique. 

And though my heart is long since lost, 

It's bleeding a burden to the living shall cost.

The revenues of revenge accrue,

And I have all the sweet time.

Plus I am attractively haunting, 

Bone, soil, roots, grubs, bloody slime.

I dwell in darkness, a ghastly wraith, 

Trapped in this tomb, a living death. 

I hear the whispers of the night, 

And feel the fright of its inky blight.

But it's only this head I've got,

Half eaten by maggots already. 

The skull is broken in part,

My thoughts aren't all that steady. 

In death, I have found no peace, 

No respite from this cursed disease. 

My bones are shitty cold, my breath is still, 

As I wait here, against my fucking will.

All I can do is curse, and hope it works,

But I never know them full.

The memory is weak, can't remember shit,

The spools of blood smeared drool.

I long for the light of the sun, 

To feel its warmth, and be undone. 

But no, I am forever bound, 

To haunt, half-buried under the ground. 

P2441

P2440

P2439

P2438 Well you see my shit

Well you see my shit, it's a bit,

Like the ordinary everyday Indian man.

I the leader of this great nation, 

Liberally shit men like this in the pan.

Sacrifice you must, or you rust,

Give your blood in a nationalist flood.

Democracy gives me all the power,

Your blood is just like ordinary mud.

Plus look at the numbers, 

I'm glad that I'm tricking a few to die.

Otherwise in front of my office everyday, 

For job, home, healthcare the assholes cry.

Let me shit in peace and joy,

I don't care if you die or India sinks.

It took a lot of nasty work to become this,

Let me enjoy my ladies and drinks.

Lick my asshole after the dump,

Maybe your luck will change.

Stop protesting it's not fucking worth, 

We've silenced the radars in range. 

India is a corrupt sinkhole, you asshole, 

Either accept it or go fuck yourself. 

There's no justice, everything is bought, 

Go frame this pictures on your shelf. 

P2437 Propaganda stuck to our face

Morons we are proud, gods shit on cloud,

Hallelujah propaganda stuck to our face.

Sucking like snot, our soul in one shot,

We citizens are just a type of surface. 

We believe whatever is told,

We understand we have air in our poo.

Our asshole is for the leaders to use,

As assholes we have therefore graduated to.

Deep dark circles under our eyes,

The cities are dust laden and dense.

Mad rush for whatever it is at the moment,

A dive into the ordinary nonsense. 

The nights are dull, stereotypes of past,

The cities sit before their screens. 

The villages many still in the dark ages,

Harbor stories of supernatural themes. 

Billions of people dictated by laws,

Heartless and utterly stale,

Selfish people at the helm,

Torturing to death a country at scale.

P2436 Balloons of homogeneous belly

A society of citizen swines, their spines, 

They shit as a rehearsed part.

Groups of dingo, impoverished lingo,

Enjoy all the power fart.

Their brains no longer worth, 

A very very runny wobbly jelly.

Putrid and full of smelly warts, the parts,

Balloons of homogeneous belly.

Short sighted and short circuitous, 

The circumstances are dire.

The country on brink, the citizens drink,

Piss from the leader's ire.

It's all very well, the days roll on,

One day into the next night.

Gradually and irreversibly the nation sinks,

Into the fright of a permanent blight.

Mass hypnosis and mass paranoia, 

All working like anesthetic smell.

The puppeteers loot the nation, 

The laity left with the aftermath and hell.

P2435