When the gale blows clean the tremors and the cramps, its the time for relaxation and sleepifcation... Its time you go home. Strange but true, we all crave, or even die to reach this stage. Duties and duties apart do we grab this sonofagun stage right by its neck. But the irony of life is - Happiness is friggin tough to come by, even if its served on a platter all for you... Let me elaborate...
Post all the duties, a soldier or a wannabe (pun intended) would want to throw away all his arms and ammo and make his way home or wherever... This is the time he has been waiting for... The smell of his Dogs, the Red Carpet-like welcome, the velvet couch and the slurpiest Indian Curry, all waiting to be fornicated by his truly. First Glance it looks Wowiee (in the words of the famous Borat Sagdiyev), then it feels warm... But the last phase is the most Frustrating of em all... When the damn boredom creeps into everything you do... The man realizes his perseverance was all for Zilch... Lack of Privacy, lack of Bung Bung and Commitments, all ooze on him like jelly beans rotten and wormed. This is the Height.
Finally the man comes back to his Dutydrome and farts and farts...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment