I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and finally I’ve come up with a few things that’ll motivate you to move to Bermuda Triangle, and for good:
- ‘Bermuda’ starts with a ‘B’ so does ‘boobs’.
- You’ll find wrecked ships there and you can steal anything from there.
- You’ll feel like a pirate. (That’s the closest most of us will ever get to living a life like Capt. Jack Sparrow)
- You don’t get condoms there.
- You can call yourself and NRI if you ever manage to return. PS: NRIs have a special status throughout India.
- Have your company’s registered office there so you won’t need to pay any taxes. You won’t have to bother even if the IT department plans to raid your office.
- It’s like Mars. (because Mars has water too)
- You can tell your fellow residents that you’re Shahrukh Khan.
- Referring to point 7, you’re an astronaut.
- If you’re still reading you must definitely relocate to Bermuda Triangle because you’re clearly, as such, jobless.
- Bonus point: You don’t need to wear clothes, they’re so mainstream. PS: I’m not promoting nudity. It’s called liberal living.
When one has absolutely nothing to post on their blog, such posts come to their rescue.
I sat in my room all messed up as always and started thinking like Sherlock, why my previous blog didn’t work out? And a thought crossed my mind, who’s a better genius: Einstein or Sherlock. Upon rigorous discussion with my toenail I realised it’s not Sherlock, it’s Sir Doyle.
So that led to the revelation that I actually don’t blog much because I don’t find time and the reasons for that being:
- I have opprobrious* smartness disorder in which my smartness outsmarts the smartness of the entire population of Neptune.
- I have the combined sex appeal of Robert Downey Jr., David Beckham, and Justin Bieber.
- My conversations with my toenail keep me busy more than anything.
- My IQ is more than your fish.
- I probably love you.
- We had sex, it was great. What’s your name?
If you laughed after reading this shit you have a mental disorder. Such things should annoy you.
If you just smiled, I bet you were thinking about having sex.
If you were annoyed, because after all it was all gibberish, you’re definitely having a mental disorder because this shit is funny and I’m fucking hilarious. Learn to laugh a little ffs.
I was taught in school that an essay should have three parts:
- Chocolates anyone?
* If you don’t know what opprobrious means, simple call me (if you’re insanely hot) otherwise just fucking Google it, genius.
Volcanoes erupted in my head
And floods in my heart
An aloof and imbecile love
Had torn me apart
And I walked on
Gathering my pieces
Remembering happier times
And those fake faces
But let us not cry
Over shattered hearts
And like obedient puppets
Just live out our parts
The world of colours, is
Filled with colours of love.
Dive into this extravaganza,
Come, dive into love.
Create and destroy, every night
Castles of passion,
That burn so bright.
Beyond prejudice, without fear
With clenched fists,
And a rolling tear,
Destroy yourself in this heat,
For love , my friend, is not so sweet.