I haven't been writing, been suffering from one of those shitty 'fuck me - but I can't write a word' feeling. So I am all out - kaput! Vat do I tell you, Sar? There is no chai to be sarved! The restaurant's owner is getting a message at the new Massage Parrlour SAR! All out Sar! We are destroyed SAR! All those nangee (nude) chinese girls are destroying our men SAR! Vaat to do!!

Yeah, that kind of shit is going on in my mind.

A fat sardarji lying on his stomach with his glorious thick hair parted at his nape, grunting and groaning as a beautiful slender North East babe from Nagaland kneaded his back just like his Jaiji kneading and thumping the flour under the shade of a banyan tree in his Gurdaspur courtyard, except for the boner which was making its presence known he felt nothing for the chewing gum munching cow that slapped and wacked his back, he loved his fat Sikhni wife, he loved her and not this 'Chinkie' gal; but he'd love to have her, just once, just this once, one the charpee on a hot Amritsari night, he would grab her her scrawny ass and do her and spray like thick hot buttermilk all over her back- Tring Tring- the phone rang-

Bollo Ji? Restaurant? Kya Ji? Chai? Us nekame writer ke leaa? Bhan chuth sala!! Mera Dream sequence Khrab katditha! Sala Chuthiya!!

Ahem...you still there?