Marriage invitation text ideas provided by @skodithala and  @mikig2.

A new comic after several months. I was extremely busy taking photos,  feeding poor children, working towards world peace and being interviewed by @gkhamba for this following podcast.

Official Plug-age of The Khamba Podcast!

The @gkhamba

Be sure to check his blog for other episodes of his new and upcoming podcast series. Hey, at least he didn’t start a webcomic!

Khamba’s Podcasts – Saad Akhtar FYF by G Khamba

Cool cop photo by Calamur on Flickr who generously allowed the use of her photos although they were CC Non-commercial license. Harshad Sharma (@Hiway) also sent a bunch of cop photos, which I have kept in reserve. Punched cow photo by Adam Jones on Flickr, CC Attrib/Remix license. Original cow is not punched. Thank you everyone, who donates photos.

Also, allow me to pimp a cow book, to reinforce your stereotypes on India:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=FavUpD_IjVY

Now this comic is not going to Retweet itself.. please share this tale of fuck-giving-lack on your twitter or facebook pages. Use the links below..

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Another Guest Post – By @gkhamba

Now I know this comic won’t be winning any comedy awards, so to distract readers from the lameness I’m including a guest post from Khamba’s Blog. If you’re on Twitter you already know @gkhamba, the writer extraordinaire who tells it like it is.

James Michener once said,

“I love writing.  I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions”

And @gkhamba recently said,

“Avoid using ‘shit happens‘ in front of diarrhea patients”

So you instantly know you’re dealing with a quality gentleman, who’s humour fits right in with Fly You Fools. So no need for any bad language, offensive subjects and obscene mental imagery disclaimers & warnings.

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Athlete Preparation Letter issued by the Commonwealth Organizing Committee

Dear Athlete!

Greetings from New Delhi, the capital of India. Or as the Chinese say, Southern Pakistan.

We are pleased to welcome you to the XIXth edition of the prestigious Commonwealth Games as long as you’re white. As you might have known already, our nation has a rich history of sporting tradition and excellence. Our ancient kushti (wrestling) gave birth to skin coloured lingerie and the procedure now commonly referred to as the bikini wax.

Our political system has long personified the Olympic traditions of Citius, Altius, Fortius and displayed sportsman like behaviour whether it be towards Mr. Warren Anderson, Jagdish Tytler, Afzal Guru or even Mr. Narendra Modi and if it weren’t for our rural youth skillfully jumping nose clogged into filthy drains to take a dip, the sport of diving as we know it would not have reached where it has today. Needless to say, we look forward to having you at this event so that we can finally justify the production of those ridiculously expensive Incredible India commercials because of which we got these Games.

Before you embark on your visit however, we urge you to go through the materials provided in this envelope so that you can further supplement your knowledge of India. You will find a movie DVD about the ancient history of India called Jodhaa Akbar, Yoga can cure homosexuality booklet by ancient healer Baba Ramdev, doing the Kama Sutra like the Macarena guide for diabetics by Shri Shri Emraan Hashmi and Making sense of your miserable fuck existence by Deepak Chopra. All of these shall help you build perspective before you undertake your enchanting journey across Delhi and better understand why tourists expand INDIA as I’ll Never Do It Again.

Besides these materials, you are also advised to go through the following points in order to make your stay in Delhi more comfortable:

At the airport: Unless you’re Somalian, we assume you will visit Delhi by plane. The first thing you will notice is how our airport is located next to a major slum cluster. While some people call it Vasant Kunj, it’s really just a slum cluster. While this might give you the impression that we are a poor country and these are meant to emotionally appeal to IMF and World Bank officials handing out loans, these are actually our primary disaster relief centres. Since the Delhi airport doesn’t have a functioning radar or CAT III landing system, these people are the only ones who might help you in the event of a plane crash. So don’t be alarmed.

Next, you are also advised to get a tan from a solarium before arriving. Freshly arrived sweaty white people who turn bright pink even if the temperature is only 20 degrees Celsius is what a stuffed turkey is to a Jew in a concentration camp. Getting a tan will also lead to a sharp drop in your cab fare – a 10% drop with every shade you grow darker. Unless Of course you’re African, in which case if you didn’t get the hint in the first three words of this letter already, stay the fuck in your country.

Interesting people: Delhi also has an eclectic mix of people from across races and cultures. When you take a cab, you will notice a bearded man in a sweaty turban as your driver. He is not Osama. He is a Sikh (pronounced S:iKKh – not Seekh – that is a type of kebab) Yes he wears the turban all the time. Yes, sometimes also while having sex. No they aren’t allowed to cut their hair. Yes, not women either. No – no English.

You will also encounter another muscular species who you will always find in tight fake branded T-shirt, embroidered jeans, sneakers, religious paraphernalia dangling from the neck and with hair mildly smelling of Jasmine oil. He is what we call a “rapist”. You will encounter such rapists across the city all fitting a similar description, specifically in cars with an HR or UP number plate, auto rickshaws and every market you choose to visit. Sometimes you will even see two of them holding hands with your head going “Wow, what a free country!” while infact given the opportunity they will fuck you like a turn-based strategy video game.

Delhi also has a vast Muslim community; however it has been ghettoized much the same way it has been across all of Europe. So you don’t have to be afraid of terrorism. According to latest media reports there is a higher chance of Red, Saffron or Khap terror striking the Games anyway.

Crime and stray animals: Along with not being allowed to click their pictures, you are also not allowed to keep bitching about how stray dogs and cattle make Delhi look completely filthy. The way we see it, we treat our stray dogs and cattle much better than most European countries treat their minorities. Just think of these animals as our version of the Roma community in France. Or the Turks in Germany. Our stray animals have much better shelter, food and social security as compared to your minorities. Or if you want to flip the argument, as long as you allow skinheads to walk your streets, we allow stray dogs and cows to walk ours. Whose streets are safer and filthier? You decide.

This leads us to crime in Delhi (Not Noida/Gurgaon). You are advised not to go out alone at night and keep a look out for potential rapists on the streets. i.e. men. If you are walking around wearing a chain, be careful of biker gangs ripping it off your neck. That said these are only applicable if you’re white. However, we are confident that since most of you come from countries where getting mugged on the streets, knife crime and a gun culture is more prominent, you will be able to fully defend yourself in every situation. Also, unlike Europeans who prefer spiking your drink and making you unconscious first, Indian men like raping you while you’re awake and kicking. But what’s the point of being an athlete if you can’t even outrun some poor Indian men on the streets?

Thus, rest assured that your stay in Delhi will be completely safe.

Delicious food: There is no such thing as medium spicy. Get over it. Cheese means paneer, and Cheese Fingers means “WTF is this shit?!” The same way we don’t complain about how British food is absolutely tasteless, or how none of the African countries in the Commonwealth even seem to have any food at all – the same way we expect you to eat whatever shit we feed you. If you want European food, look under the “Continental” section in the menu since that is the continent we think we deserve to belong to. You can then eat whatever the hell you want, but don’t crib about how India isn’t as cheap as it was supposed to be cost wise.

Also avoid eating delicacies such as Cholle Bhature and Chicken Manchurian as they contain banned substances as stated under WADA guidelines.

Photographic opportunities: As per Commonwealth guidelines, all white people are forbidden from clicking pictures of the following subjects:

Cows on the streets, stray dogs on the streets, men holding each others hands, balloon sellers, beggars, beggars in Old Delhi, beggars in New Delhi, beggars at red lights, spelling mistakes on signboards, piles of clothes at Sarojini Nagar market, random Sikhs in multi-coloured turbans, children holding hands or candles at NGOs, kites stuck in overhead electric cables, in front of temples/gurudwaras of any kind, people shitting while squatting, homeless people on pavements, auto-rickshaws, people hanging out of auto-rickshaws, people on top of buses, people hanging out of buses, buses on fire, Chandini Chowk, samosas and tea, veiled Muslim woman, veiled Muslim woman looking with intense eyes, India Gate, bunch of random kids around India Gate, holding the Parliament from the top, bread pakoras and tea and vice versa.

These restrictions have been put in place to prevent a spurt in supply of the same old clusterfuck photo collection every foreigner seems to go away with from Delhi. If you don’t have the imagination, don’t take a fucking picture.

Blink! And you lose: Delhi has an interesting relationship with the female anatomy. Not only is it a boob city, it is a city full of boobs. Thus, all our men concentrate on boobs as if it’s an anagram from the Da Vinci Code. While some of you may find this disturbing, please realise that it is the same situation our countrymen and women face in most European countries – except that our face is the boob. This leads to many uncomfortable gropes and mishandlings by European security personnel – especially at airports and other critical locations, because of which a tit-for-that policy was implemented nation wide.

However if this situation makes you uncomfortable, traditional horse blinkers are available at the official CWG Merchandise Store at the CWG headquarters for 19.99 $ each

Thursday’s are ladies nights: And finally, while we expect you to attend the various “cultural activities” we have in store for you at the Games village (such as Rajasthani Dance, Camel Ride, Snake charming, Bhangra Night with Jasbir Jassi and Kathak performances from some state down south) you can go clubbing if accompanied by atleast 5 more athletes. While we realise that it might be flattering to get offered drinks by every man in the club, please do not believe anyone who says they are a Bollywood actor or director. Other people to avoid include model casters for the show Emotional Atyachaar and touts who say they will offer to show you the Qutub Minar, which is code for their dick.

And finally, there is no language called “Hindu”. There is no Hindi word for Cheers. You don’t need to carry your entire fucking medicine cabinet with you when you’re here for two weeks. We are not all software engineers. Kashmir is ours. Shah Rukh Khan is not a great actor. No you cannot attend an Indian wedding no matter how much you want to. It’s not necessary that you will lose weight. We’re not a poor country, just our people are poor. No one gives a fuck about Netball and China sucks.

Warm Regards

The Commonwealth Games OC

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Don’t forget to share this on Twitter and Facebook. Use the share buttons below. Remember, every time you don’t tweet this, a child (me) goes hungry.

Previous comics on Reality TV shows:

1. The Tough life of a TV show judge
2. All Reality Shows are the same
3. How Reality Shows are judged

Newspaper photo by Black Custard on Flickr. Creative Commons attribution license.

And now, for something completely different…

A cross posting of a similar blog post by BigFishMag.

Check out BigFishMag’s site for more hilarious goodness.

This is a list of things I’ve heard and that have been bothering me in no specific order.

I don’t give a rat’s ass

I’m talking to my friend, telling him that I’ve been reaching late for work since my bus arrives late. He turns to me and says, “I don’t give a rat’s ass.” I kicked his ass for being stupid. What makes people think that I want a rat’s ass? I don’t think I’ve ever in my life, remotely hinted at the possibility of wanting one. What good would come out of receiving it? What can I do with it? Would a rat’s ass make me feel better? Oh! Your bus ain’t on time? Take this rat’s ass and notice your sorrows disappear.

Anyways, who keeps a rat’s ass? You need to be really – I can’t stress enough on really – twisted to have one of them rat’s asses in your possession. By twisted I mean somewhere between deranged and ‘if I jump from this building, I think I’ll fly’ crazy. I haven’t spent enough time looking at rat to figure out if it has an ass… let alone one that is worth keeping. If someone actually had a rat’s ass which I presume he painstakingly amputated off a rat, using magnifying equipments and the latest modern technology, would he actually give it away? And when exactly would he give a rat’s ass? If I became the President? Bullshit! You think I want that when I became the President? Is it the greatest international award bestowed for outstanding work done in any field? Maybe if you were offering a supermodel’s ass I would think about it else you can just keep that rat’s ass and shove it.

… no offense meant

Every once in a while you’ll meet a pussy who’ll tell you something and then append it with “… no offense meant”. Example: You suck… no offense meant. Like that makes a difference. Guess what? Offense is mine to be taken and I’ll be damned if I don’t. I’m going to go ahead, whack the guy with a shovel and say, “You’re an idiot… no head concussion meant”. You want to say something come out and say it. Stop hiding being words, verbal cowards!

Politically incorrect

Yes, there is no spelling mistake. This phrase has started to piss me off for no end. In this shithole of a country where you have politicians allegedly making statements such as, “I’ll cut their hands off,” “If you arrest me I’ll make this city will burn” and “Leonardo DaPinchy is a great online writer and he should fuck my daughters.” Do you really think anyone is politically correct? And don’t act all holy because it’s not just politicians. I’ve heard people from varied states, languages, religions, color, breast sizes coming up with some fucked up thoughts. Now, if there isn’t anyone politically correct you can’t have anything politically incorrect. Just say what you want without adding some tag to it.

I think with my heart

“The heart is a myogenic muscular organ found in all animals with a circulatory system (including all vertebrates), that is responsible for pumping blood throughout the blood vessels by repeated, rhythmic contractions.” – Wikipedia

You read that? The heart is responsible for ‘pumping blood throughout the blood vessels’ and not for thinking. Also, ‘repeated, rhythmic contractions’ doesn’t really help in logical and computational activities. Redirect any decision/ thinking activity to your brain for better results. For example consider your PC, you use your hard-drive to store mp3s of bands that you are such big fans of that you don’t even want to spend a single buck on buying their CDs which they spend countless hours to create. You don’t store your mp3s in your speakers, do you? There is a place for everything. Like your head up your ass.

General observation, people who manage the biologically impossible act of ‘thinking with their heart’ usually make stupid decisions like deciding on a life partner when they haven’t even achieved an erection or the female equivalent. They end up fucking with their lives rather than fucking with their cocks or the female equivalent.

I’m better than you

Once in a while, you’ll meet a dumbass with an ego the size of Rasputin’s cock who’ll go on and on about how he’s better than you. I’m hardly the symbol of excellence in anything. Being better than me means nothing, stupid fucks! Next time someone says ‘I’m better than you’, I’m asking for some goddamn statistical evidence with a step by step proof using Newton-Rapston method and when his mathematically challenged ass is fumbling, I’ll pull his pants off and run away. Let’s see him be better than me without his pants on in full public view.

These ego retards also indulge in the belief that is,
I’m the centre of the universe

If you use this phrase, here’s why you are stupid.

1. The moon revolves around the earth. Here the earth is bigger in size.
2. The earth revolves around the sun. Here the sun is bigger in size.

So, if you think the universe revolves around you, you are the fattest fucking cocksucker alive. Hit the treadmill and start dieting.

I’m a fun loving person

Oh! You love fun? Not me! I love to be impaled by an iron rod which is at 2861 degree Celsius, from behind. Everyone loves fun. No one expects to sit home on a weekend and eat their arm off due to boredom. It should be illegal to say something stupid. People deserve to be shot. Who’s with me?

I’m a sarcastic person

A few sarcastic replies doesn’t make you a sarcastic person. Especially assholes who come up with sarcastic replies to rhetorical questions. You didn’t discover it. The ‘sarcastic reply to rhetorical questions’ has been done for more times than Paris Hilton. Give it a rest. For example, I saw someone drop a brick on their feet so I asked, “Did you get hurt?” The cunt says, “What do you think? A brick just fell on my feet. Hurt? No way! I think I just had an orgasm and I came in my pants. Wait here while I change my soiled underwear.” Oh wait! I was the one who dropped the brick on my feet. So as I was saying, what kind of dumbass asks stupid rhetorical questions? I should drop a brick on his feet and then see if it’s hurts.

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