Thursday, June 26, 2014

SUITABLE MERCHANDISE FOR A DELHWI BRAHMIN

Two great things I found out from cruising into Facebook this evening. Neither is a datum that I can live without; it is a cause for celebration to have discovered both.

Number 1.:
There is a commercial product called 'boneless pig rectum'. It is sold in large boxes. Presumably it is edible. I stopped reading after that.

I shall have to ask the waitstaff if the b.p.r. is organic and hormone free.
Truly, I do not mind that the haunch, chops, liver, or hamsteaks are not organically reared and hormone free, but if I'm going to eat a nice big steaming plate of b.p.r., I feel I must insist that it be healthy.


Number 2.:
Some internet Brahmin (from Delhi) is posting videos of Irakis being shot in the head by ISIS, and blaming our president for that, stating that ISIS are Obama's friends. Which is not only a spurious, insulting, and completely reprehensible accusation, but it really gets my goat that people like that have the gall to make such assertions.

Surely there are plenty of desi politicians that ooloo could attack?
Assuredly there is no lack of scum in Delhi.


I wouldn't be surprised if the Delhi-ite is a wholesaler of boneless pig rectums. The more I think about it, the more I think it must be so.


HYPOTHETICAL FOOD CONVERSATION

Kindly imagine the following at some fine and pretentious food service establishment, at an unspecified time, somewhere in this wonderful city where everything is possible.

"Ohe bhai, mai boneless suara-guda ka korma chahiye, aur ek bara gilas thanda am-pani."
['Oh my brother, I should like some tasty boneless pig rectum korma, and a large glass of mango juice, please.']

"Pichale suara-guda bechaha-hai, ji, bilkul nahi hai. Kewala brahmana bhojana hai."
['We have no more pig rectum, sir, only Brahmin food.']

"Shitiya-Ram! Yaha mai nahi chahata hai! Voh bhayanakare Pakistani restoran-me jana hi hoga!"
['Oh shit! That isn't what I want at all! I shall have to go to the miserable Pakistani restaurant!']


Politely masking my bitter disappointment, I depart, and head towards Suleiman's horrid dabba in the Tenderloin. Life would be SO perfect if those damned northern Brahmins didn't run out of pig-rectum all the time!




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