Get Laid Or Get Lost

History is witness to the fact that anybody who wanted to be heard had to speak. I'm sure physics also has some explanation for this theory. But you may ask why one would want to speak instead of just shutting the fuck up. This question, valid as it may seem, can be posed only to drivelling mortals but not to Gods. Think about it. Can you imagine the degree of chaos that the world would be in now if only Mahomet or Jesus or Buddha had not spotted the flaw in this question and decided to shut themselves up in their shacks and murmured in low voices.

To list a few repercussions,

1. one-fourth of the world's population would be jobless
2. people would have no clue when to do their shopping
3. there would be no holidays except for weekends
4. India's GDP would have dropped by 50%

Well, the list is endless but I guess you get an idea of the criticality of spreading Godspeak. So listen up for the Gods speaketh here.

Providence, shamefully, it seems is like a hindi movie villain in its modus operandi. I wouldn't dare try and elaborate on all the inanities exhibited by a shakaal or mogambo for want of paper and ink but there is one particular habit of this evil genius which is worth a lot of praise: This guy could have reduced his family into a neat row of sheekh kebabs or he could have sons who are also his brothers and nephews but inspite of his monstrosity one can't help admiring his meticulousness when it comes to maintaining records. Be it an incestous rape or a complex lobotomy performed on his brother, he records it. That too, painstakingly, with the document embellished with photographs and souvenirs and what not and the way he manages to fit these documents which probably cover over a thousand rapes and a few hundred killings into a neat looking office file is just magical. And then, this life's compendium of achievements, this portable crime muesuem is traded by a starry-eyed, big-busted, dumbfuck secretary of his with a smart and sophisicated Hero in return for a moment's orgasm. It is not too late before he realizes how his senses have been numbed after being totally surrounded by female breasts. And then he gets out of his titty world and faces this setback in style by smoothly kidnapping the Hero's mom and sis who invariably turn out to be these frail, helpless and extremely vocal creatures. I dont know whether its the lingering boob-effect or its the boring job of waiting for the Hero to ram into his hide-out with a motorcycle or truck but this is where our crime-master starts behaving like a hollowed-out jaybird. Now, this part is important because the commonality that I was referring to between providence and shaakaal/mogambo starts here. Instead of keeping it simple by just having the hostages' heads at gunpoint and blowing their brains out at the Hero's arrival, he arranges for pits filled with acid and crocodiles and what not and keeps these two air-fisting, ear-blasting ladies suspended by ropes which in turn are fastened to a highly redundant and roundabout mechanical trigger which can only be operated by specially trained monkeys. It is almost unbelievable that somebody with such vast experience in snatching life and virginity can conceive of something which is so plainly nonsensical. Sadly for our villain this is where his commonality with providence ends. While providence is busy pulling the curtain across its work saying "viola!", our man here finds himself between the jaws of one of his pet crocodiles looking like a complete idiot. The reason why I had to write all this rot on the behaviour of providence is because LOL or the League of the Lovelorn was incidentally the result of an orgasm that providence had at the climax of one of its longwinded contrivances.

Five guys. From five different cities. With five different pasts. Wearing 5 different brands of underwear were brought together through a snarled mesh of events woven by providence during one of its particularly puerile fits. Chinka, Guchie, Moosi, Soya, Tampee - the five presiding deities of the LOL Temple, each with flesh and blood drawn out of the essence of everything that is masculine and aphrodisiacal are the only living Gods of Sex operating in this universe. It would have done a lot of good to this legion of lovesick lasses, all moaning and wailing in heat, if only providence hadn't played this stupid game with them and expedited the inception of LOL by cutting all that roundabout crap. Keeping this in mind, the LOL has launched a program something on the lines of Blitzkrieg which is going to sweep across the earths in the form of a mammoth wave of sperm quenching the thirst of every lady who is willing and wailing. We have opened this virtual interface with Jane.Q to spread the word. To announce the "coming" of the LOL. So keep Looking.

Long Live LOL.