Entre

So, this would be my first blog ever. Not a very reassuring thought, but I figured I might as well leave all the brilliant thoughts bubbling around inside my mind to posterity. Since I don't exactly have a backyard to bury a time capsule in, I figured why not use the power of the internet and create a blog. Hence the reason why you, dear reader, are suffering.

So anyway, hello to all. For my very first topic, I shall write about.....


Zombie Stripper. That, for the uninformed, is an actual, honest-to-God movie title. In case you didn't already guess, its a B-rated movie. Which should tell you all you want to know. I highly recommend this movie to all who are tired of The Notebook and Marley and Me.

Let me sketch out one particularly memorable scene for anyone interested. So this guy goes to a strip club, right, and sees this smokin' hot stripper. She turns out to be a really accommodating stripper, the kind lots of people wish they knew. She takes a real fancy to our hero and takes him into the standard strip-club back room. At this point, he's not really complaining, which is quite understandable. She happily proceeds to get down on her knees and - for the sake of the underaged who I really hope will read this blog and learn a lot of life's lessons from it - blow him. So there he is, in proverbial and quite literal heaven, when suddenly she (very rudely, in my opinion) bites away that highly important bit of him and starts chomping away on it like the french fries she buys at the local McDonald's. The guy's stunned, as expected, and all he can do is just lie there, while a fountain of blood spurts out, looking exactly like he's peeing. Except that its red, of course. And looking like she's found the fountain of youth, this highly enterprising and very nippy stripper drinks it all up, showing us all that she is in fact a zombie.

I always thought it was vampires who drank blood, but I guess a few liberties can be taken in a movie like this. Don't ask me what happened to the guy and his love life after this. I cannot tell you, having never really watched the thing. If I do so, and if at all I survive, I shall document it all for your sakes, so that at least the Hollywood ( or, as is very possible, Tollywood) doyens of the 26th century will know the sketchy plots of the typical family movie of the 21st.

Remind me to write about my friend Saket and his shaving sometime.

Have fun all. And remember: growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional.