So I haven't written in the longest time. Lots has been going on, lots I could write about, lots I could poke fun at, lots I could dissect and shred to pieces - but I didn't. Partially because people I used to like, I don't like so much anymore, people I used to judge, I don't judge so much anymore, and so forth.

With a whole new level of life alteration in tow, my muse is either jetlagged or lost in translation. More so and to be honest, my muse is pissed off and doesn't feel worthy of articulating cheap stories about cheap people.

However, since I don't want to be a blog tease, I still feel the urge to relay an sms stalker's poem to me yesterday: (and i quote verbatim)

"GREEB AASHIQ"

Tera Mera Jor V Ki
Me Ek Kisan Da Putter
Tu Waddy Afser Di Dhee
Me Khoky Te Cigrate Phookan
Tu K.F.C Wich Pepsi Pi
Tera Mera Jor V Ki

Me Ek Shirt Nu Toh Toh Pavan
Tare suit 25, 30
Tera Mera Jor V Ki

Me Te Mar K B.A Kita
Tu Riyazi Wich M.Sc
Tera Mera Jor V Ki

Tare Pichay Sohnay Munday
Sadey Wastey Khala di Dhee
Tera Mera Jor V Ki
(greeb aashiq)

And now since my Punjabi has sharpened even more, it made my day.