Rocking Retrospections
(Heard in the House) Muma: "Stop drumming your fingers like a Tabla and help me with the bowls"
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My MBA program is unofficially over- in the sense that I have completed all my classes, gotten all the credits and passing grades, but haven't received a transcript and my diploma is not due till ... mmm... a long time from now. We haven't gotten our farewell party yet... in which, may I add, I will stumble, fumble, and mumble some incoherent phrases on the microphone as a farewell speech, but that is all too far in the future to care... mmm... well, maybe I will "do the starts with armpit farts"... but actually I'm too uptight to do anything of that sort. I might just stick to the plain old blushing and gushing routine.
I remember our welcome party. We had to go through this supposedly ragging ritual... a sort of acculturation process, maybe. It was held at Verge Inn (opposite Soaltee Hotel), which, I ruefully mused, was probably chosen for the name (sounds like virgin :s). Anyway, a few girls could not stand the ragging, and one stomped home and I didn't blame her. A few others sneaked out, and I didn't blame them either.
I also remember that I had to do a stupid catwalk and a short dance in a makeshift aisle... (roar like a lion, people urged- I actually got Mr. Lion and got a stuffed lion, a feat that I am quite proud of). And on stage, I was asked by a panel of 'judges', comprised of seniors whose sole motives were to unnerve the cowering man/woman on the moon by asking stupidly double-meaning riddles. I had to perform 5 different kisses. And I mumbled something like, let me use my hand to demonstrate, and some people were sniggering in the crowd. Then it dawned to me that it was a dangerous analogy to masturbation... but well, most were silent; I guess most people weren't bent that way...
A year and a half later, a girl was supposed to ask the person onstage something related to pubic hair, and she thought it was public hair; and again, only a few people noticed... and I again guessed most people weren't bent that way...
But, oh well, it is always fun. Some people crack up, some manage to retain their pride, some even gain the audience's favor, and sometimes the Questioner cracks up... Quite a variation.
Oh, so where was I? Oh, actually I did not have any point to make; if I were made to utter one, I would say, the point is to just point you away from making it "boring to the point of snoring". Ahh, I notice the yawns on the fawns... I better put a stop on my rhyming crop; make an end with my poetic bend; say enough to the bardy stuff; and finish the tingles with my jingles. So Ciao, I'll stop niao!
--
My MBA program is unofficially over- in the sense that I have completed all my classes, gotten all the credits and passing grades, but haven't received a transcript and my diploma is not due till ... mmm... a long time from now. We haven't gotten our farewell party yet... in which, may I add, I will stumble, fumble, and mumble some incoherent phrases on the microphone as a farewell speech, but that is all too far in the future to care... mmm... well, maybe I will "do the starts with armpit farts"... but actually I'm too uptight to do anything of that sort. I might just stick to the plain old blushing and gushing routine.
I remember our welcome party. We had to go through this supposedly ragging ritual... a sort of acculturation process, maybe. It was held at Verge Inn (opposite Soaltee Hotel), which, I ruefully mused, was probably chosen for the name (sounds like virgin :s). Anyway, a few girls could not stand the ragging, and one stomped home and I didn't blame her. A few others sneaked out, and I didn't blame them either.
I also remember that I had to do a stupid catwalk and a short dance in a makeshift aisle... (roar like a lion, people urged- I actually got Mr. Lion and got a stuffed lion, a feat that I am quite proud of). And on stage, I was asked by a panel of 'judges', comprised of seniors whose sole motives were to unnerve the cowering man/woman on the moon by asking stupidly double-meaning riddles. I had to perform 5 different kisses. And I mumbled something like, let me use my hand to demonstrate, and some people were sniggering in the crowd. Then it dawned to me that it was a dangerous analogy to masturbation... but well, most were silent; I guess most people weren't bent that way...
A year and a half later, a girl was supposed to ask the person onstage something related to pubic hair, and she thought it was public hair; and again, only a few people noticed... and I again guessed most people weren't bent that way...
But, oh well, it is always fun. Some people crack up, some manage to retain their pride, some even gain the audience's favor, and sometimes the Questioner cracks up... Quite a variation.
Oh, so where was I? Oh, actually I did not have any point to make; if I were made to utter one, I would say, the point is to just point you away from making it "boring to the point of snoring". Ahh, I notice the yawns on the fawns... I better put a stop on my rhyming crop; make an end with my poetic bend; say enough to the bardy stuff; and finish the tingles with my jingles. So Ciao, I'll stop niao!
posted by Milan at 6:55 PM
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