High Speed Dirt

Greetings flesh bags. It's been a while, and I can't say I've missed you. Since my last review, I've gained a few hundred pounds, broken an opposable digit, and have lost all interest in blogging - reading, writing, and reviewing. The good lady hid my PS3 controller to accelerate my healing, and I haven't hunted a dim-witted herbivore in the last month. I am PISSED off and sure as hell hope I'm reviewing fuckin' Wodehouse today.

No? Fuck me and my broken claw then. "My Tumbling Thoughts to the World ...beware, here I come" (fuck, fuck, fuck) treats visitors with a list of "Amazing people who make me go on n on n on:)". I had flashbacks of karaoke nights in a basement bar, peanut shells, the overwhelming smell of urine, and asshole frats "ironically" singing Journey. And they ask me why I hate people.

When I visit a new blog, I usually page down to the bottom to get a quick look at the sidebar, template and general design. Not that I care about aesthetics, but historically speaking - crappier the sidebar, worse the content. But hey, if she has so many awards, she must be AWESOME right?

Sure, English is not your first language Suruchi, but must you make it so hard? You're a teacher, and your profile reads

I think I am wise, which makes me the unwisest of all theoretically...but rest assured, I can be what I wanna be and there's so much in me that I wanna share

If this were the first class of the course, I'd be getting ready to drop it right about now.

So what does a harebrained teacher write about? There's advice on kissing, new-age bullshit, and random thoughts no one deserves to be subjected to. It's one part emo, two part mommy blog - but complete bullshit whichever way you slice it. You yack about how you're different and how wise you are. But your writing simply can't shake off the unmistakable smell of bullshit.

I had a lot of trouble getting through your writing, and a small part of it was due to your frequent switching to Indianese. There's nothing wrong in using other languages in passing if they're translated (or obvious) and used in the proper context. But "writing" like you're "talking", and all the time at that is utter tripe. Also, you do know that writing like *this* is to *emphasize* something, and that the helpful duo (parentheses) are used to interject sentences? Right? Right? *RIGHT*? And, why in the name of Vishnu do Indians use so many ellipses? You have a full sized keyboard, and presumably a normal sized brain, what's the deal with the chat acronyms?

You don't seem to check yourself in light of your identity for all to see, but is this the best you can do? We get people who can't reach their full potential because their mothers and cube neighbors are frequent visitors, and we advise them to go anonymous just to explore their boundaries. I'd suggest the same for you, but only to spare your loved ones from the trash you churn out.

This showcases almost everything that's wrong with your writing. When you aren't stabbing grammar in the balls with a corkscrew, you get all cutesy, mix up tenses, styles of speech, overuse ellipses, use languages I don't understand. Even if I were to ignore fuckin' ALL of that, there's absolute no substance in a page long post. And for God's sake SAY FUCK WHEN YOU MEAN FUCK.

An hour at her blog, and I was down three glasses of my cigar malt but got nowhere close to finding something redeeming. To entertain myself, I began scrolling wildly, and came up with a composite post from a page of Suruchi's manure farm.

Presenting... the best post ever.

And suddenly I hear moans...
She put her fingers lovingly against the flaccid face of Sushant, the deepest of peaceful sleep spreading across his pallor.
Where men get ready to fist a loafer’s face blue if he raises so much as an eyelid at the girl on his arm...
What maximum can happen?
Come out...say as you feel...be as you are...

That got boring quick, so I substituted words in her posts to keep me going.

Between the duration when a vibrator would reach from the ground floor to his doorstep through the elevator, he said he would have written an article.

I was having an interesting conversation with a dear friend the other day when a kind of penis appeared quite conspicuously to the fore!

Fuck this shit. As bad as the writing is, there are several dozen "readers" to keep her going, and I think that's a tragedy nearly as big as this blog is.

Suruchi, get on the bus. And here's another for your "followers".



Also, since you like awards, here's one. You know where to stick it. *Your sidebar is an option*