“Will you please just go home?” “What?” I croaked, looking up from my desk. “Why should I go home? I feel fine.” “The birthmark on the back of your head is glowing bright-red,” responded Lady Okra, my friend at work. “I know it glows when you’re pissed off, but I think it’s also like an early warning system for when you’re sick. Also, you sound like you’re speaking through a tunnel.” “I’m red because the air-conditioning isn’t working,” I said [...]
Archive for June, 2007
I was watching Pakistan’s latest English news channel “Dawn News” earlier this weekend, while muttering charms to ward off the curse that someone’s apparently put on me (in addition to the food poisoning and the flu, I’ve also been stricken by allergies that leave me incapable of looking at anything without sneezing several times), when I found something that made me lose my shit. Well, several things. Not just a handful of the obviously gay announcers (which, let me just [...]
Categories: Literature, Queer rage, Wrath, Ire, Fury
When I got home last night, I passed out from what I figured was just general tiredness, courtesy of the incessant power outages that darken Karachi on a daily basis, and the subsequent less-than-four-hours-of-sleep-every-bloody-night that have been a staple of my existence for well over a month now. That opinion rapidly changed when I woke up to find my bedsheets drenched in sweat, and my skin practically glowing. I must be pregnant, I thought, weaving my way down what seemed [...]
Categories: Randomness
Work has been fairly intense for the last couple of days, as has the amount of time I’ve been spending on helping a friend with a new business project that he’s launching. Oddly enough, I was rather looking forward to June; a number of friends have gone out of town for vacations of some sort, and I thought that there would be an inevitable amount of down-time, but curiously enough that hasn’t been the case. Part of that is because [...]
Categories: Homosociality, Hypersocialising
Six bloody, cunting, useless hours spent in a fight with the maternal unit. You’d think that after 16 years, she’d have come to terms with the whole flipping gay thing already, right? Wrong. In the words of Regine Chocolat, “This is some BULLLLLsheeyot.”
Categories: Foreshadowing