In this modern social networking-dependent world, if someone does not reply to a message or a wall scrap, he’s usually deemed to self-involved or too cool for school. But no one for a second stops and thinks, is the other person alright, or as in this matter, ALIVE.

Common guys, I know it can be bugging if people call all the time, so we social-connect, but we got to break the rules and get conventional. Just pick up the phone and call just to say hello. It’s million times better than a barrage of pokes and wall posts and definitely better than throwing a sheep, donkey or dinosaur at someone.

Until next time, keep smiling……

Now before I embark to tickle ur funny bone, here’s my definition of a family restaurant. It’s a place where married people, with their offspring go to relax, celebrate or eat, in case the husband is too tired to cook (bet you gals didn’t catch the sarcasm there). So the expected decor has got to be very family oriented right?

But, whenever I’ve been to one of these “Family Restaurants”, I’m usually greeted by a hottie which rates at 9.5 on hottie richter scale, is of course well-endowed and not to mention proud of her assets and showing it off as well. Now, you think a man can sit in a restaurant, and eat in the face of this divine temptation. It’s the equivalent of having a hot-dog poster stuck in front of your treadmill, or running a marathon with a beer keg tied to your back.

And not to mention the age old alibi of the society that a man should stand firm on his ground in the face of temptation, well, Screw That. If they through it your way, take it and run like you wearing your neighbour’s shoes.

For a family restaurant they ought to have certain guidelines. For example, the stewardess should not weight anything less then 85 kilograms. Show have at least a well-trimmed moustache, if not the full beard. Should be an ardent advocate of No Deodorant Policy. So long and so forth.

Sadly at this point I got nothing to hare with my married friends, except…..Regret You Suckers!!!!!!!

Until Next Time…Keep Smiling…

While I can go on and on with my ranting about grabbing life by its testies…here’s a little something something for you….shut the damn machine…go out…talk to an absolute stranger and enjoy this wonderful thing which dead people miss called life!

Until next time…Keep smiling!!

Why look far, my ladylove just loves these deep thoughtful conversations. And as I told her, I’ll tell you, if anyone is ever trying to say such a thing, do just one simple thing, Rationalise. I for one believe the Glass half full or glass half empty was derived in three of the following scenarios.

1 -  Mr Deep-thinking-weirdo is out on a date and tries to liven up the discussion of a doomed first date by looking around the table and narrowing down on the ladylove’s half empty glass of whatever (or was it half full? We’ll never know)

2 – Mr I’m-too-smart-for-my-own-good is at the bar. His date has ditched him. An he’s contemplating suicide by leaping into his glass….no whether the glass was half full or half empty, we’ll never know.

3 – his one’s my favourite, coz if this happens to be true, it’ll just be mocking us till the end of time. Ever contemplated on the possibility that this might just have been a simple brain-fart, a random thought

all I know is, for some who base all their decisions on such beliefs/sayings/mantras/ call it whatever you want, I think it’s high time they made one of their own. How about Is the glass half full or the bottle completely empty?

Sleep on it….
Until next time….
Keep smiling☺

Of course they are…look at it…they are mass-produced…just like babies in China, India and some far off African Semi-republic nation. Where ever you look in super markets and groceries. And am guessing the production is as simple. Like kids, making chips isn’t that difficult. Anyone with the basic skills can pretty much procreate, as well as produce chips. It’s cheap to produce. And once produce they very much take care of themselves….aka…sell themselves…so the next time you buy a pack of cheetos, take a moment to sit back and name each an everyone of them…after all…they are someone’s produce from a small production shed in a “Developing” country…as for me..am gonna enjoy Jack, Robin, Elizabeth and Aaron with my afternoon tea

Until next time,

Keep smiling.

A lot has been discussed regarding this conflict, a lot has been written, a lot more has been unearthed through electronic media. But nonetheless, the problem still persists, with no eventual end in sight.

One may even consider the possibility that this conflict may never end, or also there could be a possibility of the leaders of these countries trying to enter the Guinness Bok of records for the longest running conflict in history. One never knows. But as history has taught us, when democracy, monarchy and dictatorship collectively fail, the onus is upon us, the demented people who crop up the solutions.

So here are a few thoughts to end this conflict:

Like all problems in the world can be solved with a smile, similar parallels can be drawn to the magical weed, marijuana. The plan is simple, just take one of those crop dusting planes used in California and France to create artificial rain, stuff them with the best quality weed and crop-dust it all over the Middle East. We are talking a pan Middle East rave with the best weed mankind can offer. The result, a region that’ll be totally and absolutely stoned.

Now before you get offended, here’s the logic behind this operation. It is a documented fact that once under the influence of weed, the self worth of an individual appreciates many folds. No man under the influence of marijuana is ever gonna blow himself up. He’ll be too lazy to even lift a gun and pull the trigger. And once the precedent is set,  no one will actually bother to revive the conflict.

So here it is. A simple solution to solve an age-long conflict.

Until next time, keep smiling.

Change, the only constant in this changing world.

Life…a collection of minutes…. seconds and most importantly moments. Some moments are good, while others are bad. Some are exciting, some outright disappointing. Some bring a new lease of life, while some just take your breath away. But hidden between these moments, and occurring frequently are the dreaded embarrassing moments, and those are countless. It can be anything from entering the she-room instead of the he-room, wearing a polka dotted shirt or riding a pink bicycle. But the epitome of embarrassment has to be the penultimate moment of manhood. Just as a man is about to embark on a sexual escapade, he stops for a second to open the box of the rubber….the safety net….fireman’s hat…aka…condoms.

Now I agree that this is the most distracting moment, but whilst one tries to make the action as swift and as fashionable as humanly possible, without any fault of yours, pops out the unforgiving, unacceptable and infuriating surprise from the box. “The Condom User Manual”.

Who in the world has ever in the recorded history of mankind or mass-produced contraceptives has ever stopped in his straps to read this piece of literature.

Which self-respecting man would actually pause and read this and let all his hard work go cold?

And while you try to recover from the embarrassment without attracting too much attention to the piece of paper you can’t help but wonder what were the guys at the manufacturing unit thinking? This is not exactly an epic piece of written literature. You wouldn’t find a septuagenarian or a teenager for that matter sitting on a lazy Saturday afternoon reading through this manual. Someone please explain the reason for this manual to me.

Is this the condom manufacturer’s way of patronising the end-user or is it just some FDA regulation for ever devolving human race?

Until next time,

Keep smiling.