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Six embarrassing songs on our play lists

Six embarrassing songs on our play lists

Karle baby dance wance by Daler Mehndi: The Punjabi-banter ridden conflict of all time. Girls and boys, who will make the rotis and who will give the jhappis? After all, you guys just want a chance wance to have some chai shai and, please, us ladies don’t want to see no dilli shilli, okay? The song manages to keep it current by adding some English lyrics (I need you baby, you drive me crazy, How I miss you, Let me kiss you, Let me kiss you tonight). What’s not to love?

Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre’s: Gulp. It’s true. Yes I know it’s 2012. And yes, I’ve seen the video featuring a scarily hairless chest peeping out from a blinding white shirt flapping in a sea breeze. But you know the bad rap? (Your presence surrounds me like a flowers a bloom/ and I love the smell of your Elizabeth Taylor perfume). Yeah, gets me all the time.

Super bass by Nicki Minaj: I honestly can’t figure out what’s more amusing, the ridiculous lyrics, the sudden British accent that pops up in the middle of the song (oi mean moy moy moy, yu loike pelican floy) or the melodiously heartfelt way she belts out the boom badoom boom bit.

Teenage Dream by Katy Perry: We can be all intellectual, listen to jazz, discuss the influence of Shakespeare on literature and contemporary art over tea, but let’s admit it; Sometimes all a girl wants is to set a boy’s heart racing because of her skin tight jeans. Am I right? Am I right?

That don’t impress me much by Shania Twain: Yes, it’s that ridiculous video where she walks around a desert in a leopard-print outfit, rejecting rocket scientists and Brad Pitt for not having ‘the touch’. She rejected Brad Pitt. If he doesn’t have the touch, who the hell does, Shania? Yes, I’m not too impressed by her grammar either but for some reason the song never goes off my play list.

Rhinestone cowboy by Glenn Campbell: Hey, hey. I grew in a Goan Roman Catholic household, which means there was a frightening amount of country-western music in the early years. I pick this one to be my guilty pleasure song. Why? No pick-up trucks, no mama waitin’ home by a stove and no Lucille pickin’ the right time to leave you. This guy dreams of Broadway. Aspiration. You gotta love it.

Popular culture’s most amazing dogs

Popular culture’s most amazing dogs

Popular culture’s most amazing dogs

The Vodafone pug

He’ll find you true love, follow you when you go fishing, dote on you, curl up next to you at night, and stand guard while you canoodle with a love interest. Man, with dogs like these, who needs networks?

Odie from Garfield

Eternally panting, unfalteringly joyful, infinitely enthusiastic, naive, hopeful, energetic: We can’t get enough of him, even as he’s constantly getting one- upped by the sulky, scheming Garfield.

Muttley from Whacky Races and The Perils of Penelope Pittstop

Question: What’s more awesome than a dog who sits shotgun in a race car? Answer: A dog that sniggers deviously every time you screw up.

Tuffy from Hum Aapke hain kaun

Tuffy earns his stripes umpiring cricket matches and deciphering that Salman Khan is in fact, the real groom. Of course, he thinks of doing the last bit an hour before the wedding when he could have picked any moment during those long months spent picking sarees, sending out wedding invites… well, the umpiring bit is so cool.

Snoopy from Peanuts

How many dogs do you know write books, are World War I Flying Aces and have an alter-ego called Joe Cool? Just the one.

Snowy from Tin Tin

An inquisitive if slightly cowardly white Wire Fox Terrier, Snowy accompanies Tin Tin in his adventures. He helps him solve mysterious and sometimes even gets super drunk and delirious. Hey, a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.

Fang from the Harry Potter series:

He’s full of disobedient, happy doggy-love and he slobbers absolutely everywhere, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad. Cheers.

Dug from Up

A golden retriever that can talk. Yup, that’s right; Dug has a special collar that translates his barks into human. Affectionate and joyful, only squirrels can distract him.

Six dead people we wouldn’t have a drink with

Six dead people we wouldn’t have a drink with

Six dead people we wouldn’t have a drink with (Even though they’re awesome)


He ousted the British using only abstract concepts. He basically said “Nyah Nyah” to every school bully who shouted “You’re gay for not fighting.” He was the man, a beacon of hope, a figure of inspiration, a leader of men. Would we grab a cold one with him? Er, we already have plans. We’re cool with the Mahatma being a vegetarian, but he’s the judgmental sort of vegetarian which means that every bite of chicken would go down with a reproving lecture on foods that give you “a happier existence”. And oh he didn’t drink (we were getting there, smartass) which means his “cold one” would probably be a ….water. Not cool.

Helen Keller

Sharanya;  Hi Helen, karaoke?

Helen: xxxksjdhsjdhf

Sheena: Huh?

Helen: jhsdfhuygudf

*writes on hand*


TS Eliot

Lit students everywhere: Five words: Tradition and the Individual Talent. Yep, there’s that familiar pang of annoyance. This is not literature, that is not literature. Hey Mr. Choosey-beans, come on man. TS Eliot was brilliant but he’s also a snob and incredibly hard to please. That works well, if you like your drinks with a big side helping of I’m-more-intelligent-than-you-sucker. Which we don’t.

John Lennon

Lennon forms a quarter of a big old pie of super awesome. He is a treasure. But as a drinking buddy, he is the equivalent of that nauseating guy that just got dumped and won’t stop talking about it.

Imagine there is no buzz; it’s easy if you try. Nothing to drink or dance for, John is sappy and a bore. See, thinking of drinking with Lennon is making us rhyme. We hate rhyming.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Charming. Creative gold. Well-dressed. Impeccable prose (almost poetry) to his credit. He knew his cocktails. And he definitely knew a thing or two about partying, yes, yes. Oh, but his choice in women. He’d probably babysit his all-over-the-place-but-engaging-wife right in the middle of my “Nick Carraway was the perfect flawed narrator” speech. Damn. So close.

Sylvia Plath

If you like running all around a bar trying to stop a crazy lady from breaking bottles, jumping on a bar and throwing fries in the air, go ahead and ask Sylvia Plath for a drink.

P.S – If she suggests you go oven shopping, run.

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