How to Lose Friends and Annoy People

(Disclaimer- This may be my worst post till date. But I figured that after reading this, all other posts will seem like gems, so I'm leaving it as it is :D)

(Disclaimer 2- Mutual fund investments are subject to market risks. Please read the offer document carefully before investing)

(Disclaimer 3- The author does not know what the word 'disclaimer' means)

April Fool's. Hmm. Quite frankly, I've never really understood the concept. So this time around, I decided that to investigate what all the fuss was about. Turns out, it's not as easy as pulling off a prank on someone you know. It requires planning, timing, as well as factoring in unforeseen elements.

It was depressing to see how everyone wanted to try it but no one seemed to know how. So I thought I'll post the results of my analysis, as well as add in a few handy tips which you can use for best results, so that others don't get to know that you're a moron.

You're welcome.

Now, before all of you storm to torch my house with your pitchforks and knives, let me tell you that I'm not late. In fact, I'm writing this post about 11 months in advance. Ha.

(*Breaks into hysterical sobs*)

Ok, I'll admit it. I'm about a month overdue. But that's only because I've had a pretty stressful thirty days. My girlfriend dumped me. I burnt the noodles. In the fridge. And now even my dog hates me. I'm a loser. I'm going to die a very slow and painful death.

...Ram said to Shyam.

Now that one sucks. In fact, it's not even a prank. [But is a useful way to annoy people nonetheless- Just append 'Ram said to Shyam' at the end of any statement]. So that's tip #1 for you. Don't try clichés. Ever. And don't think that you can tell a joke and pass it off as prank. It doesn't qualify. You can try dirty jokes, though, *if* the occasion seems appropriate (and only if you really have to). But remember, no clichés.

(If you don't like dirty jokes, skip the next line)

A white horse fell into the mud.

.

See the point I made right there? No, the other one. Yeah, good.

Getting back, what did happen, though, was that my dog pee'd on the couch, and my girlfriend chewed up her leash. Or maybe it was the other way around. I forget.

Anyway, it was a long story, so I'm not going to narrate the entire thing, but I will point out that it involved a sandwich, 6 beers, 2 girls 1 cup, 17 gloves and lip balm. (And that's when the aliens started shooting and we used our plasma torches and all that blah but you wouldn't want to hear about the boring stuff, so I edited it out. You're welcome. Again)

When I tried to tell this story with a few 'fabricated' facts to a few friends with the intention of fooling them, I realised that it greatly vexed them to listen to it in its entirety. Almost to the point where I had to untie their hands and feet before I could finish telling the story. But I didn't.

So, anyway, you'll notice that there's a pattern here. What doesn't fool people, works towards annoying them. Perfect.

You'll also notice that this point is in line with the previous one I made.

    .
   /
  /
 /
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(y = mx + c)

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We were discussing the results of my analysis of different ways to fool people. Here's the list. It was getting huge so I removed a few points.

1. Tell everyone that you're pregnant

This one seems to be pretty straight-forward. Pretend to have a bulging stomach by inserting a small pillow or cushion near the tummy region. (Instead of a pillow, you could also use a dining table...for added effect.) Then blissfully give them the good news. Like so-

(The direct method)

You - "I'm pregnant!"

They - "Oh, that's wonderful!"

You might wanna consider the reason behind this being the best method. You see, people's brains are designed to process less stuff; take the obvious information and move on. Do not try to complicate things to the point that they have to pause for a brief moment and think about what you are saying. This will make them get suspicious and they'll start asking awkward questions. Like-

(The what-the-hell-did-you-just-say method)

You - "We're expecting a new member in the family!"

They - "Hey...where's the dining table?"

Expert tip - The most important thing to look out for is ensuring that you keep a straight face when saying the entire thing, so as to seem as convincing as possible. Try it in front of a mirror. And turn off the lights. It helps. Although sometimes, even this may not be enough, so be warned.

(Case in point? My attempt at the selfsame thing. I made sure I kept a straight face every time I said it, but hardly anyone seemed to believe me. I guess it must've been something to do with my voice. Or maybe the fact that I'm male.

Nahhh. Definitely the voice)

Like I said, I removed a few points as the list was getting really, really long. So...this is the end. Although there might be another incident worth sharing.

I'd gone to the post office, and it was really boring waiting in line for the rest of the customers to finish. So I decided- 'Let's do something interesting.' So, instead of taking a cab or a bus home, I decided to male mail myself home. But the problem was that I had to go in one package, whereas my underwear was made to go in another (heavy machinery or something it was called).

Now, I've reached home, but the other package hasn't. I'm guessing it had something to do with me exchanging the labels of my, uh, package with someone else's. It was a girl, for God's sake. Sheesh. In any case, I'll keep you posted on any updates in the future.

Alright, then. Am off to the super-market. Got a new couch to bye bai buy. (Hmm. I wonder where the dining table's at)

Tweetzilla

(Continued from Tales From The Yeast. First post in series- On Electricity)

Harry hit the wall so hard, it had a strange effect on his brain. He started saying illogical things that were incoherent and out of place speaking like a retard. It was not entirely obvious at first, but it didn't take long for Ron and Hermione to put two and two make a tutu.

"Are you alright?", asked Hermione, now wearing said tutu.

"Who names their phoenix Fawkes?", replied Harry.

"Erm. I guess that's a yes. Why did you run into the wall anyway?", asked Ron.

"Your mom told me to I thought he was Wall-Demort. (Teehee)", Harry tittered.

"Riiight. Well, anyway, we lost the IP that we were tracking. What do we do now?", said Ron.

"Purple?", Harry replied, half-confidently.

"I think something must've happened to him. He's acting strange. It's upto the two of us now. What do you suggest?", mumbled a frustrated Hermione.

"He's gone bonkers, really. But seriously, who does name their phoenix Fawkes?", Ron asked with a perplexed look.

"Focus!", Hermione shot out.

"Hmm. This Focus guy must be quite the retard then", Ron averred.

"Arrgh. You're of no use either. Why do -- Wait. We're in the matrix, right? And it's a perfect square (2x2). So we should be using its adjoint! Of course! What's Diagon Alley diagonally opposite to the station?", inquired Hermione, as her face suddenly lit up.

"The ice-cream parlor?", said a doubtful Ron.

"Exactly!", shrieked Hermione, switching off the light on her face, "That's what the IP was -- Ice-cream Parlor! Hurry, we must rush to it now! That's where the hacker is"

Ron, not really in the mood to question her extremely bizarre logic, wearily followed Hermione to the ice-cream place. Upon entering the place, they were greeted by the essence of some sort of a caramel-butterscotch blend. As they glanced around, they spotted him almost immediately -- huddled in the corner, packing up his laptop and finishing off the last bit of his ice cream -- the Death Eater.

"Where do you think you're going?", Ron huffed, blocking his path.

"Why should it concern you?", the man questioned, flustered.

"Aren't you the guy who just hacked into the Matrix?", Hermione said, her eyebrows a little askew.

"M-Me? No. I'm Sthar'Ur. I was j-just updating my Twitter", he stuttered, incorrectly.

"Oh, so it's your Twitter now, is it? Well then, what's your latest scoop?", said Ron, always pretty random with his puns. At the same time, he kept thinking to himself what the deal with all the weird names was.

The man reluctantly showed them his Twitter feed.
 
This is what his last tweet looked like:


...and ate it, too.

Just as Ron was about to let him go, Hermione noticed the second-last tweet in his feed:

..and while you're at it...make me a sandwitch

After much interrogation, the man revealed that he had never been contacted by Voldemort before that, and was completely surprised to see the tweet himself. Ron and Hermione then conducted a cross-reference analysis, until they stumbled upon this:



FAIL.



"So then this guy's story checks out", Ron surmised.

"Pretty much. The other thing is that Voldemort still uses the old T8 dictionary. That's why he mistyped Sugar_87 as Sthar'ur" revealed Hermione, showing Ron her T8-to-T9 converter.

Just as they started their attempt to search for Sugar_87, everything began to dissolve. The walls and the people seem to fade into a blur, and suddenly they found themselves in some sort of a lab.

"Hey, what happened?", gasped Squidward.

"Uhrhh?", is all that Spongebob managed to utter.

Their questions were answered when they finally came to, and heard a lady's crisp voice incessantly echoing -- "SIMULATION TERMINATED. SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE LAUNCHED"

"Oh, no! Patrick! What did you do? We were *this* close to catching the real hacker", Squidward said.

"Well, since I was of no use, I just started photocopying all my shoes in case somebody ever stole them", Patrick replied.

"Habakawa-what? How is that even--? Are you out of your--? Ah, forget it", Squidward gave up.

"Hmm. If he's not the one responsible for this, then wh--?"

Spongebob was interrupted by a loud crashing sound that reverberated through the lab. And then a thud. Then the ground started to tremble as well.

"Oh no! I think it's got something to do with that huge creature outside. What do we do now?', said Spongebob, panicking.

What IS that thing, you ask? Well, I suppose that would require a...

[Flashback]

"I guess the red pill seems safe", said one of the bacteria, and took it from Voldemort's proffered hand. Little did he realise that he had been tricked, and he slowly transformed into a ginormous dinosaur.

But Voldemort soon had to pay for his sins in full, as the bacteria's pseudopodia seemed to have a deleterious effect on him, and suddenly made him very frail. He could sense that he was dying.

So one of his henchmen tried to inform his family of the emergency, but he ran out of balance, and had already exceeded his quota of 100 messages for that day, so he proceeded to the nearest pre-paid shop, recharged his phone, made the call, and directly told them that Voldemort was dead.

Seizing the opportunity, Pikachu grabbed the blue pill and quickly ingested it. As his body assimilated it, he turned into one of the worst beasts ever to set foot on the planet -- Man.

While this was happening, the dinosaur (let's call him Rudy) was ravaging the city. He chanced upon the lab which our trio of heroes were in, and began to attack mindlessly.

Pikachu, on the other hand realised that the dinosaur was up to no good.  So he soon formulated some sort of advanced chemical, called the Buckyball (Buck, for short) and hurled it directly at Rudy.

This triggered some sort of a fierce reaction, that generated a HUGE amount of heat, and thus generated a lot of infrared waves. But it was so hot, that due to thermal expansion, their wavelength increased and they turned red.

And that's why the entire planet was soon rendered lifeless, and completely red. This incident kind of marred the situation a bit, and that's why the planet is now called 'Mars'.

the end

[Update: Thanks to Tejus and Mohit for their help with the plot!]

Communication (s)Kills

I recently realised that communicating your ideas to others is harder than it looks (er..allow me to rephrase that). Because it is a dying art that tends to be under-estimated I suck at it. It wasn't like some sudden big flash, though. In fact, this realization actually happened in parts. It all started with...

Sentence formation

Someone on the road randomly asked me what the 3 areas I'm most weak at, were. (Hmm..that doesn't sound right)

Someone on the road randomly asked me what were the 3 areas I'm most weak in. (No)

Someone, randomly, on the road, asked me if I could list areas of my weakness, choosing the top 3. (Dude?)

Someone on the road asked me why I was in the top 3 weaklings every week. (Really? Wtf?!)

The moment I wrote the first among those sentences, I wondered - "Did I frame that sentence correctly?". The answer was a much debatable no. As you can see, it took me many attempts to realise what I was doing wrong. Know what it is? That's right-- indirect speech. Indirect speech always makes the sentence complicated to understand, said I. (Oh, crap. That was passive voice Passive voice, that was) But anyway, you got the point I was making, right?

Consider its direct counter-part, direct speech (Omg a pun). I'd suggest always preferring this. It's much simpler to comprehend. Consider the same sentence in direct speech--

Someone on the road: "Wazza?"
(Direct speech pwns indirect speech)

Much better. As I sauntered across the streets all puffed up by my new found secret to idea conveying-ness, something happened. Something I wasn't prepared for. Something that made me so conscious of what I said, that I lost control over my...

Brain-to-mouth Filter

Often, you'll find yourself in a situation wherein you need to weigh your words before letting them out. In other words, you need to make wise use of your so called brain-mouth filter. Consider incidents wherein what you were about to say and what you actually said were completely different things, and eventually ended up landing you into trouble. More often than not, what happens is that while you're considering what to say, the listener has nothing to do but to stare at your blank face. And he/she perceives you to some sort of an advanced species of moron. Case in point?

Exhibit A:

(Friend on the street, surprised to see me approaching college from the side opposite the usual one)
"Hi! How come this side?"

(Me)
"Well, actually I was late and was running so fast that I overshot the main gate, and by the time I could slow down, I had already travelled an extra 200 meters, and now I'm going back" (No, dude, say something more feasible. Anything. Atleast she won't think you're some weirdo)

"Um. Just buying some..stuff.." (No. Too vague. Be a little more precise)

"0.6"

(Friend)
"Oh, ok then... (Weirdo)"

So I decided to just go with the flow. Apparently, Unrestrained talk + Negative IQ = Bad combination. Who knew? In short, I realised that sometimes, the opposite happens. You need to be able to back up whatever rubbish you utter, just in case. Coz some people can give you a run for your money. I present to you:

Exhibit B:

(Bro)
"Hey! That neon lamp is so cool"

(Me)
"Yeah. It actually works on a super-collider nano particle technology. They use the negative free energy of plasma-neurotic electrons to achieve nearly five times the amplification of light intensity"

(Bro)
"But then it would consume about 1000 watts of power, right? Considering the bipolar nature of the mid-west region..."

At this juncture, it is wise to just shut up, as the listener has clearly shown that he can match you in intellectual bullshit. But, nooo. You have to try to go one up and dig your own grave, don't you?

(Me, ideally)
"Yeah, I thought you wouldn't realise"

(Me, actually)
"No, dude. It actually uses the quasi-inter-stellar rays from dwarf stars and black holes. So in the alternate dimension, it would consume only about 0.3 kilo joules per nano second"

(Bro)
"But that's actually more, right?"

(Me)
"Er.."

This was too much. So I resigned myself to failure. (Does that even make sense?) Anyways, I quickly realised that what I was doing wrong was choosing the wrong medium for communication. Face-to-face? Not for me. Text-based? Now, there's a thought.

Enter, Text messaging.
[Text messaging enters]

Text message - m here..ssup! hwz thngz n al (w8..iz dis my lyn?)
Me - Dude, I can't understand you at all.

Txt - its k..cuz ul gt used 2 it..
Me - Eh? I don't want to learn a new language. And how am I supposed to know if 'bt' means bat, bet, bit, bot or but?

Txt - z..u wnt t old englsh lang? thr s sme thng cald dxnry..
Me - There is? Oh this is pretty cool. It can even predict what I want to say! Neat!

Text - Does this dress make me look fat?
[Curtain falls]

So, apparently, some guy was nice enough to solve two problems at once -- illegible text and poor speed. Nifty, I thought. But this joy was also short lived, as I soon came to know about the perils of using the predictive text mode. Or, what I like to call...

T-Pain


T-Pain, short for T9 Pain, is what you get when you grow accustomed to the T9 mode, and slowly realise its many quirks. There's a reason it's called Predictive Text, and not Text Prediction. It only works about forty percent of the time. The other sixty could either annoy you to death, or send the reader into coma, or both, depending on who reads the message first. Although most of the time the message is garbled rubbish, some words could alter the meaning drastically.

(Original)
There's nothing more I want. I have you...

(T9 version)
There's noughog nope I want. I hate you...

The news will tell you that most breakups happen via text messages. What the news won't tell you is why. Now you know. But that was just a tame example. Sometimes, even the phrase 'unforeseen consequences' seems to merely pale in comparison.

(Original)
Hey..what's up? :)

(T9 version)
*Censored*

See? Told ya. So what next? Logically, I thought that I ought to take advantage of the medium a little. Think. Proof-read. Don't jump the gun, look before you leap types. So I plan, cross-discuss, weigh the pros against the cons, and only then send a message. That was until the day of..

The Delayed Compliment

[At 11 am]
(To self)
Hey, she's wearing a nice top. Maybe I should let her know. Girls like compliments. Er..it might be pretty awkward though. Ok, let's chuck the idea.

[At 3 pm]
Maybe I should tell her. What's the worst thing that could happen? Hmm..then again, even if I don't, what's the worst thing that could happen? Atleast I can avoid an awkward moment. Best to steer clear.

[At 9 pm]
Oh, what the heck. I'll just text her.

[Message delivered at 1 am]
hey...nice top :) :)

[Reply at 1:01]
er..i'm not wearing one (Weirdo)

Just great. Now I had a few seconds to think of a good recovery line. Anything to ameliorate the situation. But I really suck at those. All my previous attempts have been sorely disastrous. And that's an understatement. That's when I stumbled upon..

The Funny Joke

Yes, not just any joke. A funny joke. The explicit use of the adjective emphasizes that you can't just say anything and pass it off as a wisecrack. Free messages have spawned millions of horrid 'forwards'. Ranging from lame to downright annoying. Some of them come with much fanfare, but always have a standard closing section. A typical 'joke' would read like this:

JoKe Of ThE YeAr!! (Opening section)
.         (Formatting)
.
.
.
Man before interview : "May I come in, sir?"          (The "joke")

Interviewer : "Wait, plz"

Man : "75 kg, sir!"
.
.
.
.                (More formatting, so that it looks like the best part is yet to come)
Gud nit! :P                 (Standard conclusion)

So with everyone's head muddled by things like that, it's really hard to come up with a genuinely good joke. And if you're under pressure? Well, God save you. But here's a helpful hint - Do NOT try to get inspired by them. EVER. The best you could probably come up with would be something like:

[Reply at 1:03]

lolz j/k
.
.
me 2..v shd ttly hng out 2gthr..w8..nt hng out as in hng out 2 dry..cuz thts whr i hng my clths..cz m nt wearng thm ryt nw..i bt u do tht 2..dnt u?
.
ps-w8 as in wait..nt weight..coz tht wud b 75..nd ttly lyk nt mk ny snse..ryt? lol
.
.
.
.
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gud n8 :P

(Holy %@#&)

I'd say that there is simply no good way to communicate, more or less. (Hmm..that doesn't sound right)

There's probably no good way to communicate, I'd guess. (No)

I'd surmise, more or less, that an effective way of communication is unfounded, as of the present scenario. (Dude?)

I'm surprised that more is effectively less, for I have found in many a contemplation -D' Adairo. (Really? Wtf?!)

I rest my case.