Note: Despite writing “Delhi, who gives a fuck?” I felt that I still hate Delhi which is the reason for this article and this time I’m starting on a positive note and filled with optimism.
Delhi is a great place to be if you want to get raped. Visit any popular travel agency and you’ll find it on the itinerary with no extra charge. Also, Delhi rapists are dedicated. One woman gets raped every 24 hours. How they manage to keep it that accurate is quite a mystery. But if non-raping Delhiites would be this dedicated in their profession maybe Delhi could have been India’s richest city instead of Bombay… a bold, font-size 42, all uppercase ‘maybe’.
Fun fact – Delhiites always blame the rapes on immigrants which means any of the three things.
- Delhi girls think that someone would actually travel to rape their pathetic ass. This is taking narcissism to a whole new level and then fondling it.
- Delhi guys won’t rape their own girls. This doesn’t speak highly about the Delhi female population. We in Bombay, rape our own women. We rape foreign women as well. If they are here looking for cheap fun because of the high conversion rate, cheap fun we’ll have.
- Blaming anything on immigrants comes under the immigration problem. The immigration problem is defined as follows – Blaming a group of immigrants for taking something which belongs to you (example jobs) because you are either too lazy or too inept. Applying the immigration problem to the Delhi rape scene shows that Delhi guys couldn’t even get the ancient and feral human legacy of forced coitus right. Good job, you failed.
I bet immigrants who are desperately trying to make ends meets are more interested in having their end up some female’s end without the latter’s permission. When you are too busy rotting on a footpath the only hunger you want to satisfy is that of your stomach.
By the way did you know, we have the best footpaths? The entire road is a footpath and the original footpath doubles up as a parking spot, hawker’s paradise and an ideal spot for open manholes. You can walk and also park anywhere because in Bombay we take freedom seriously. Also, pedestrians rule! If ever there is an accident you can bet your shiny balls + 20 bucks, the pedestrian will never get blamed. Obviously you can’t blame Mrs. Gujaratri Ben for leaving that 4 year old brat of hers unattended while she spoke about the trivialities of life. Why take the efforts to hold your child and keep him safe on a busy road? If he can’t dodge 25,000 KGs of moving metal, he’s not worth having, is he?
Also, the footpaths here are home to many and it’s a great way to be up and close to film stars or spoilt brats of rich big shots. If you’re living on a footpath you are this close (hand gesture with lil’ space between the thumb and index finger) to meeting a film star. The only thing separating you is some metal with four wheels. We literally make the ‘meet a celeb before you die’ dream come true by letting one of a beloved stars run you over and then not care about it because he decides to donate 10 bucks at a goddamn charity. Not a bad thing I say. You are going to die anyways, so why not at the wheels of someone famous. Your wife is going to cry anyways, why not have her do it in front of multiple cameras which bring some cheap evocative footage to our homes so that news-channels have something to show while some two bit asshole rambles on about how the victims have been deprived. Look on the bright side that was her only shot of being on T.V. Probably the best thing to happen to her.
Coming to best, Bombay’s transport is undeniably the best in the world, which is why our buses are called BEST (Dunno who gave it the ‘BEST’ rating. If it were up to me, I would give it a ‘STRICTLY OKAY’). BEST buses are a great place to fondle strangers or get fondled by strangers. Don’t worry if you are a guy. Our perverts don’t discriminate. Unknown fact – BEST is in direct competition with facebook. BEST helps you connect with total strangers... instead of just friends or people you have spoken to once who add you for no reason whatsoever and then never talk to you at all while you’re wondering if they have added you to look at your pictures so that they can have a good lonely time. Why poke a friend when you can grab some ass?
Compare that to Delhi’s BlueLine. I remember those BlueLine buses being so busy running over people it was hardly taking commuters from A to B unless you consider A earth and B the after-life. Here are some one-liners on BlueLine… BlueOneLiners if you may.
- People ride the BlueLine buses so that they don’t get run over by it.
- There is a BlueLine between life and death.
- BlueLine is the fastest and offers the best prices with its new scheme - From this life to after life, in 2 seconds for free.
Then there are trains. Delhi has this Metro shit with 97 stations of which 17 are underground. Underground? Why? Clearly Delhi is ashamed of 17 of its stations or maybe they are hiding something. What are you hiding? WHAT ARE YOU HIDING? Guess who’s not hiding their stations? Bombay, fuck ya! All our stations are above the ground because we are not ashamed of them and/or hiding anything.
In Bombay you can also travel via roadways which is equivalent to sitting in the middle of the road and consuming petrol while you contemplate burning your vehicle and walking for the rest of your life. It makes you wonder why you want to or are even wasting 2 hours of your life everyday to reach a place where you further waste 9 hours doing something that you never dreamt while you feel that your life has become an all consuming black hole of shit from which you can’t escape and you finally waste 2 more hours to travel back home to repeat it the next day. But what the heck, at least I’m not getting raped.
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Posts: 43
Reply #45 on : Thu June 10, 2010, 23:12:39