Why Saudi women must not be allowed to drive.
Tag Archives: humour
Don’t be fooled to think from the title that this post is about the cinematic rubbish that Ranjan Ramanayake stars in.
I wrote a post for The Platform titled ‘Parliamentary Debates: The Politics of Comedy’, this was a ranking of ten instances when humour has been utilised expertly to convey a point in the British Parliament. Sadly, such banter does not manifest itself that much in the Sri Lankan Parliament.
As Cerno outlines –
— cerno (@cernoblog) January 25, 2013
Sri Lankan Parliamentary rhetoric is far too contaminated with hate, absence of intellect, selfish hunger for power and most of all disrespect for another, to facilitate the smooth humorous intercourse of banter. The closest one of our parliamentarians would come would be from this gem by Mervyn Silva.
This is a post to shamelessly promote what I wrote for The Platform. Either way, I am sure readers will find the videos entertaining. I cannot speak for my writing.
Image from here.
I was going through some of my old posts in my other blog and I came across this! I still think it’s hilarious and was worth a post in this blog. Read full post here.
I read Halik’s post and remembered one of my own.
When I was still in school in 2004, when having a phone was the ‘in thing’ and the likes of twitter or facebook were unheard of, I toured the UK for two weeks. I met other students from other countries and it was a good convention of like-minded students and teaching staff where we learnt of and saw a lot of things.
The tour itself was great, it was my first visit to the UK and I had a lot of highlights. Even if not one of the most academically important, I think this particular incident really did teach me a lot of things.
I think it was in Aberdeen or Glasgow in Scotland where this took place. Now this was a 14 day all expenses paid tour, I took one (yes just one) razor as part of my toiletries. I really didn’t need that many, because facial hair growth was minimal and things on the face were only starting to happen, well pimples apart that is.
I can’t really remember the details, but we were to have a dinner or tea-meeting with the city’s mayor or someone of some significance and we were to be dressed smart, bow tie and all. And I realised that it may be better to just shave off the facial hair just beginning to sprout and look more in one extreme, I should either have a proper well groomed beard or none at all, as it was- my facial hair growth then was about one hundredth of the way towards a proper beard.
With all the stuff I had, little stuff like cables, chargers and those of the same ilk I had lost my razor in the suitcase.
So I walked into the shop nearby, male ego and all – going to buy a razor you see. Went through the aisles looked around, walked around pompously as if I had a whole bank to spend and then I went to the counter, where ironically razors were behind the sales girl.
I waited in the queue and then it was my turn to make my order, and by now there was quite a queue behind me, from the normal queen like old woman with a regal outlook to the suave executive. With my school boy confidence oozing I said pointing at the most expensive pack of disposable razors, ‘can I have one of those please’, I heard a deafening hush behind me – the reason for which I didn’t know then. The salesgirl who may have been about five years my senior looked at me, smiled and with a slight sarcastic politeness said as if to deflate my confident air, ‘we don’t sell singles sir, you have to buy the whole pack’.
This was new to me, I was used to going to the shop near the junction, five minutes from the road I live in Colombo and just said ‘uncle Gillette ekak denna’, when I was out of pocket money I just say ‘uncle bic ekak denna’. Being the eldest in the family, and the first to go through life’s changes, asking money from my parents to buy a razor was more embarrassing than it was painful for Oliver when he asked for more.
When the salesgirl told me this, I was in a new kind of predicament – now what! The pack of razors I had shown her was about £ 8.50 and as a school boy in 2004 the cash rate converter rang alarm bells in my head just then. I was going to do a transaction of about Rs. 1750 for a pack of ten razors which I will take at least 8 months to exhaust, at the rate my beard was growing.
I quickly looked around, and with renewed confidence spotted the cheapest pack of razors – given the amount of facial hair I had, anything would do I thought. The cheapest was a pink coloured pack (I must’ve thought it was salmon), I pointed at that and said, ‘oh, in that case I’ll have that pack’. Connecting with the smiling queue behind me, she said ‘pink razors aren’t for you sir’ as if I hadn’t got it already she reinforced that by saying ‘they are for ladies’.
I was stumped, as a losing warrior on a quest for redemption I bought that £ 8.50 packet of razors and walked back to the hotel I was in, knowing inside that I was a man beaten, boy rather. I had bought razors for Rs 1750! It kept haunting me every time I saw that pack; I could have had seventeen meals at MC food court with that amount! Hell I could have taken the whole of my AL class to MC food court and been the hero! Yeah, MC food court was sadly the decent hang out place then.
In my defence, those were different times – whilst we (or I) knew things in theory, the fact that a product such as a razor also has a market amongst the ladies had not really sunk it. Or maybe I was just the slow weirdo who didn’t catch up with the times.
Then in Sri Lanka, I can’t recall ever seeing a tv advert showing razors for women, razors were always a men’s thing and was always attributed to a smooth cut a man can have. Plus, those were times when twitter, facebook, online activism, youtube were unheard of if they were already there and even a high speed adsl internet connection was only owned by a very limited amount of businesses. Adsl was just beginning to be marketed and only a handful of people had it then, I certainly had only my dial up connection. Free flow of information was not as rampant and effective as it is now.
Lesson learnt I guess.
Have a great week!
Hitler very badly wanted to celebrate his birthday! But there was confusion as to when Eid was in Muslim countries and he had a big problem in deciding what to do or whether his birthday will be celebrated in the right fashion in Muslim countries, check the Video Hilarious!
Over the past decade intensely (and even longer in a not so intense way) there has been controversy about the date that Eid should be celebrated on. Technically if the crescent was sighted and there are two independent witnesses then Eid can be celebrated, and if anyone was fasting on that day he should break his fast.
The Theologians back at home have this notoriety for procrastinating the announcement of Eid, and more often than not folks at home end up celebrating Eid a day after the correct day according to the Islamic Calender.
Some people who realise this celeberate the festival on the correct day according to the Islamic Calender and defy the verdict of the theologians, and some others wait for the verdict of the theologians before they celeberate. Perhaps the folks who celeberate Eid irrespective of the verdict may be celeberating on the correct date, but i for one celeberate with the Majority simply because there should not be two eids and it should not reflect disunity in the community. This is a very controversial and deep issue and i am underqualified to comment. Bottomline, i am not an “international pora” as those who celeberate early are identified as.
Check this Video! btw the video doesnt feed into my facebook, so if you are seeing this in my fb page you will have to view original post, the video is worth it.
Wish everyone a Peaceful and Joyous Eid. !
Indian News Channels: Breaking News! Chicken crossed the road! Tune into our special show about it at 9 pm tonight.
Nicolas Sarkozy: Ze cheeckeen? Where? Where? Perhaps my Carla would like eet!
Atal Bihari Vajpayee: The chicken *pause of 10 seconds* crossed *pause of 15 seconds* the road *pause of 20 seconds* because *indefinite pause*…
Arjun Singh: Now, all these privileged upper caste chickens won’t have monopoly over crossing the road. 49.5% of the road is reserved henceforth for the OBC/SC/ST chickens. (If we have our way, the upper caste chickens will soon be banned from crossing the roads altogether.)
The Supreme Court of India: Aye, aye, aye! But butter-y, cream-y chickens are not allowed to have a share in that 49.5%.
Yousuf Gilani: Let’s get back to our old whining. No compromise on Kashmir. The chicken question is secondary, you territory-grabbing Indians! And anyway, our chicken has already been outed from power.
The Taliban: It was a female chicken and without a burqa and a male relative. We will not answer the question but there is going to be a public stoning of that chicken.
John F. Kennedy: Ich bin ein Chickenliner.
Voltaire: I don’t agree with the chicken crossing the road but I will defend to death its right to cross it.
Sartre: Because it had found out that “Hell is other people” and hence, it was escaping. Now, shut up and let me kiss ma belle Simone.
Martin Luther King, Jr.: I have a dream. It is to see the chicken cross the road without being questioned.
Le Corbusier: It was checking out my beautiful little Chandigarh’s 90-degrees road planning.
William Wordsworth: It wanted to wander lonely as a cloud.
Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.
Pablo Neruda: To sing a song of despair.
Hamlet: To cross or not to cross is the real question.
Caesar: Et tu, chick?
Robert Frost: Because it wanted to cross The Road Less Travelled and to make all the difference.
Rudyard Kipling: If you can cross the unforgiving road/ With(in) sixty seconds’ worth of distance run/ Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it/ And – which is more – you’ll be a Chicken, my son!
Edgar Allan Poe: Ghastly, grim, and ancient chicken, wandering while crossing a road and more/…../Quoth the chicken, “Nevermore”.
Douglas Adams: 42.
Marvin, the Paranoid Android: Chickens! Don’t talk to me about chickens! You can loathe them or ignore them but you can’t like watching them cross the road.
Voldemort: Who the hell cares about a chicken, you foolish, filthy Muggle? Avada Kedavra!
Luna Lovegood: It was not a chicken. My Daddy told me that it was a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.
Grindelwald and the 17-year old Dumbledore: For the Greater Good.
Plato *copying the two wizards*: Yes, I put my bet on that too. For the Greater Good it is!
The Agnostic: The chicken, if that’s what it really was, crossed the road, if that’s what it really crossed – if it crossed at all – to uh… hmmm… I don’t know!
The Atheist: I don’t believe there ever was a chicken. I don’t even believe there ever was a road. Neither of them existed. This is a trap!
The Paranoid: Why are you asking me? No, why are you asking me? How should I know? Really! And why do you want to know?
Blonde/Sardar(ni)/Drenched: She was in what? You know, the chick… what was the chick in? Without that information, I can’t tell anything.
The Creepy Old Man of KFC (what’s his name?): Chicken? Damn! We missed one?
Amitabh Bachchan/Shah Rukh Khan: Why did the chicken cross the road? A: It did it by mistake; B: It was forced to do so; C: It wanted to meet its family standing on the other side of the road; D: It wasn’t a chicken at all.
(K)Ekta Kapoor: Kyunki (k)chicken (k)bhi kabhi (k)egg (k)tha.
Mallika Sherawat: After having lived in such an oppressive environment where it had no rights, the chicken finally broke free and is now exposing itself to the world by crossing the road. It’s not a hypocrite like all others.
Australian Press: Just like the Indian Cricket Team, the Indian chickens are also ill-mannered and rude. [Four pages dedicated to slandering the Indian chickens.]
Elvis Presley: It was walking to the Jailhouse Rock.
Bob Dylan: How many roads must a chicken cross before it can stop being questioned? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.
John Lennon: You may say the chicken is a dreamer, but it’s not the only one.
The Beatles: Because it was tired of sitting on a cornflake and waiting for the van to come.
Pink Floyd: On the day the wall came down, the chickens threw the coop locks onto the ground, and with beaks high, they raised a cry, for freedom had arrived.
Led Zeppelin: To reach the stairway to heaven on the other side.
Hilarious! i found this here.