The Chicken and the Pig

A pig and a chicken are walking down a road. The chicken looks at the pig and says, "Hey, why don't we open a restaurant?" The pig looks back at the chicken and says, "Good idea, what do you want to call it?" The chicken thinks about it and says, "Why don't we call it 'Ham and Eggs'?" "I don't think so," says the pig, "I'd be committed, but you'd only be involved."

It's all about loving your parents

An 80 year old man was sitting on the sofa in his house along with his 45 year’s old highly educated son. Suddenly a crow perched on their window.

The Father asked his Son, “What is this?”
The Son replied “It is a crow”.

After a few minutes, the Father asked his Son the 2nd time, “What is this?”
The Son said “Father, I have just now told you “It’s a crow”.

After a little while, the old Father again asked his Son the 3rd time, “What is this?”
At this time some expression of irritation was felt in the Son’s tone when he said to his Father with a rebuff. “It’s a crow, a crow”.

A little after, the Father again asked his Son the 4th time, “What is this?”
This time the Son shouted at his Father, “Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again, although I have told you so many times ‘IT IS A CROW’. Are you not able to understand this?”

A little later the Father went to his room and came back with an old tattered diary, which he had maintained since his Son was born. On opening a page, he asked his Son to read that page. When the son read it, the following words were written in the diary: -

“Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa, when a crow was sitting on the window. My Son asked me 23 times what it was, and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a Crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel irritated I rather felt affection for my innocent child”.

Ice cream :)

My roommate is gonna wakeup in the morning and wonder what ever happened to that ‘generous’ amount of ice cream we bought last night. Don’t blame me,  because one I start digging into the ice cream the only thing stopping me is the bottom of the carton :) sorry buddy :P  the Turkey Hill butter pecan is just awesome :D  

 

He walks a lonely road

The wind is howling as he slowly approaches the steps of the railway station. The only television in the entire station is tuned to the news channel. The weather man is discussing the imminent showers and thunder storms due latter in the night. He looks around and smiles to himself; there is not much happening today; just what he needed. He pushed his cap further down and adjusts his shades. He tried to look as cool and composed as his facial muscles would allow him to be. His hands are thrust into the pockets of his jacket. He strolled around the station stopping at the small food stall to grab a chai and a samosa. He checks his watch, there was still plenty of time. Sipping the lukewarm milky concoction and grabbing an occasional bite he observes the people around him.  A few coolies resting their backs on the wall waiting for the next passenger train, the station master going over his charts, the lone potbellied constable thumping his lathi on the pillar and deriving pleasure from the sound it generated, few people waiting for the next train. He felt confident that he wouldn’t fail today. He had been planning for this day since six months. The newscaster a young girl fresh out of college, now reverted back to the upcoming general elections and the IPL tournament and proclaimed that the nation was going to be glued to the television for the next thirty days. The news made way for filmy time program showing a young actor and actress embraced in a lip lock sequence with the movie title ek serial kisser ki dastaan in stylish bold letters. Nice photoshop work ! he grins to himself. He checks his watch. More twenty minutes.

He walks slowly in the shadows towards the far end of the platform. He picks a big steel column and hides behind it waiting. The area is very poorly lit. He slides a hand into the inner pocket of the jacket and feels the loaded gun with it’s silencer screwed. He is waiting with bated breath. He glances at his watch. Five minutes. He hears footsteps coming towards him from the dark. They come near him and stop. There is a confused murmuring. A silhouette of a man glistens in the moonlight. The silhouette has a thick unruly mop of hair. The visitor lights up a cigarette cursing the wind. He blows a few rings into the air and keeps shifting his weight from one leg to another impatiently.

He comes out of the shadows and takes a few steps towards the visitor. The visitor on hearing the footsteps quickly blows out the cigarette stomping it under his heavy boots and tries to make out a face from the shadows. The visitor unable to make out a definite face in the dark and not wanting to wait any longer in the worsening weather, asks for the stuff.

He laughs. He laughs out aloud and steps out into the moonlight. With gleams of silver light striking him the visitor catches a glimpse of his face and steps back in horror. His face turns pale white; a white only which death can bring. The visitor stumbles and falls. He is on his knees begging for mercy.                           

He pulls out the gun. Points it at the visitor’s temples and says “ you never should have broken the bro code.” Six muffled shots ring out into the night. The visitor collapses into a bloody mess with his brains blown out. He slides the gun into the jacket and walks back into the shadows.