SCUM

GIANT P.S.
This is such an important postscript that it comes at the start of the post and not post the post. Omitted a point and now I'm adding it in.
Why I am scum:
Reason 1-A: Because I don't tell my best friend Nikhil all my secrets. I am sorry Nikhil, I love you, I will not keep secrets from you.
<3
________________________________________________________________________________________________
I have recently been scumiffied, and I thought maybe I should make a list of things that add to my scumminess. Just in case you ever need to check if I offend you in various particular ways. So heres stuff that might make you click your tongue or wrinkle your nose at me, or shoot me through the head and cry for joy.

Scumlist

  1. I'm a fussy eater. I can't put mushrooms or brinjals in my mouth. I can't feel happy putting anything non-potato in my mouth. My mouth behaves like it is a high society marriage venue with a very elite guestlist. I say I am vegetarian but I will eat any nonveg that looks like it ought to be invited to my glam digestive system. If you were stuck on a desert island with me I suggest you don't forage for edible fruits and roots and nuts cos I'm likely to not like it anyway though I promise I'll appreciate the effort. I'm a nice person that way. But it'd just be a whole lot easier for you to kill me and then eat me while you contemplate on my niceness.
  2. If you were dying and I was the only person around and you gave me a picture of your baby so I could give it to your mother once you've plonked it, then I think you are a soldier and this is World War 1, throw in a poem or something, why don't you. Also the picture won't ever reach your mother because I would lose it like I lose all important documents. And if I don't lose the pic, I'll get lost trying to get to your mother and will be forced to abandon the entire emo project anyway.
  3. If you were dying and I was the only person around, fuck the picture, I would have a panic attack. So not only will your mother never see her only grandchild's face (the pic), there will also be no chance of you being saved by any prudent First Aid.
  4. I will judge you. By what you wear, what you say, what you read, what music you listen to, the colour of your shoes, the design of your belt buckle, the amount of time I think you took to get ready in the morning..You name it I've thought about it.
  5. If you were on KBC and just one question away from getting your 1 crore and you decide to phone-a-friend and call me up, your 1 crore and your place in India's history books is gone. Nada. Zilch. Caput. Because when it comes to trivia/general awareness; I KNOW NOTHING. But I will buy you a t-shirt that says "I'M WITH STUPID —>" and I will sit where the arrow points everytime you wear the t-shirt.
  6. If you take me to a bar and let me drink my fill, I will fucking drink my fill. After that I will wash my face in the commode or or beat you up or sell my ipod for a bottle of bubble solution. Not to say I've not done worse. I have. I have fucked things up for other people and for myself. And whats worse, I'll most likely have no memory of it. Yes I am the disgusting neighbourhood drunk. After every party I lose a few friends and make a few new ones that I don't recognize later. Of course I exaggerate, but there is no noodle soup without noodles. For the less bright among you, where there is smoke there is fire. Or a drunk kid playing with matches.
  7. My head is like Freud's dreamland. It is pointless and complex and unintelligent at times. I will complicate things. ALWAYS.

So now you know that I have issues and I'm nicest when I'm sitting in a corner reading a book or slitting a wrist or something. Not to worry, I don't have THAT type of problems, I'm just saying it for effect.

Scum.
 

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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