Some neural block has occurred I guess. Right now am in office staring at my monitor for past two hours with the determination to do nothing at all. Guess I am saturated with MaxDNA PLC concepts, and SSingh ( sheesh.. just now the shocking revelation comes to me that I have never mentioned SSingh, next post on him..rather US). Now before I digress as usual, am gonna brag about my SPORTS DAY.
Well, yeah, though I work in a public sector, though the thought pattern of a few people is tangential to mine, though the number of people I speak to at office is equal to total virtual hair on Syed Keermani’s head., come SPORTS DAY and we became one common name, cutting the barriers of hierarchy and sex. We were BHEL-ISG. For Ladies, the events started with spoon and marble race. Though the game may seem kiddish to many royal b&*tts , it reflects on one’s concentration capacity, time-distance mastery and speed governance. And It is definitely the best game since Her Highness, Preeti S won the third Prize . Was disqualified in throw ball and running race too cam first from the last. There were a bunch of sad people who had imagined their boss behind them and hence they won it hands down. My boss is cool so I was cool too about the race. My mother won a prize in skittles ( snow bowling) and Me again in tug-of-war. Actually there were two teams and unfortunately I was on the team which came second. Even before I could realize the ‘war’ had started, it was all over, since our team was a bunch of malnourished children from Africa and theirs were a bunch of homo sapiens who were definitely first cousins of Big Show(now if you don’t know him, please get elite with WWF).
Tambola was a grand flop for both my unlucky tickets. Nevertheless, The sir who conduct3ed Tambola was a feast to the ears. Flawless language, with well-tailored words, introducing each number as it popped out of the pink plastic container. The impact of “I am a COMPLAN GIRL” blew away the very next day. Pain started burgeoning from name-it-and-I-will-say-it cells of my body. Fitness level is negative, came the comment from my mother, and for once I could not spit back. She threatened me never to get married (yuhuuuuu) if I am so fit for nothing (literally). So Preeti has started feeling guilty, has swept the dregs of lethargy under her doormat and is taking a solemn oath in the virtual presence of her online friends that she will rise with the sun everyday and go for jogging and other fitness freaky stuff, but never shall I cut down on fried food, potatoes and more potatoes :):). NO WISE CRACKS PLEASE :):).
Well, yeah, though I work in a public sector, though the thought pattern of a few people is tangential to mine, though the number of people I speak to at office is equal to total virtual hair on Syed Keermani’s head., come SPORTS DAY and we became one common name, cutting the barriers of hierarchy and sex. We were BHEL-ISG. For Ladies, the events started with spoon and marble race. Though the game may seem kiddish to many royal b&*tts , it reflects on one’s concentration capacity, time-distance mastery and speed governance. And It is definitely the best game since Her Highness, Preeti S won the third Prize . Was disqualified in throw ball and running race too cam first from the last. There were a bunch of sad people who had imagined their boss behind them and hence they won it hands down. My boss is cool so I was cool too about the race. My mother won a prize in skittles ( snow bowling) and Me again in tug-of-war. Actually there were two teams and unfortunately I was on the team which came second. Even before I could realize the ‘war’ had started, it was all over, since our team was a bunch of malnourished children from Africa and theirs were a bunch of homo sapiens who were definitely first cousins of Big Show(now if you don’t know him, please get elite with WWF).
Tambola was a grand flop for both my unlucky tickets. Nevertheless, The sir who conduct3ed Tambola was a feast to the ears. Flawless language, with well-tailored words, introducing each number as it popped out of the pink plastic container. The impact of “I am a COMPLAN GIRL” blew away the very next day. Pain started burgeoning from name-it-and-I-will-say-it cells of my body. Fitness level is negative, came the comment from my mother, and for once I could not spit back. She threatened me never to get married (yuhuuuuu) if I am so fit for nothing (literally). So Preeti has started feeling guilty, has swept the dregs of lethargy under her doormat and is taking a solemn oath in the virtual presence of her online friends that she will rise with the sun everyday and go for jogging and other fitness freaky stuff, but never shall I cut down on fried food, potatoes and more potatoes :):). NO WISE CRACKS PLEASE :):).
PS: SOMEONE TAG ME :) I feel like doing a tag :):)
