When you are an adolescent teenager you have these wild fantasies. Like making about with the women in every issue of Playboy magazine, damn making out actually. Of course, to be more honest, it was Cindy Crawford in my case. That mole is all there was to it. The other thing I wanted to do was fly on a fighter plane, which is why I'm particularly jealous of my good friend 'JetBoy' who works in UndieTeeVee and recently flew a F/A-18F Super Hornet - damn bugger!
Anyway, the reason behind this post is that I'm finally being able to fulfill one of my myriad of fantasies next week (fingers crossed and hope I am not crushed to death by the mob at Rajiv Chowk and not run over by a bus at one of Delhi's roundabouts). What the fantasy is obviously I cannot mention, but it doesn't involve wicking candles here and there nor am I paying good ol' Hugh a courtesy call. But, it does involve a lot of testosterone and unburned petrol and smoking rubber on a airstrip. Yay! JetBoy of course, was not impressed, after all when you've held the control yoke on a Sukhoi and a Mirage, do you really care. But then again, I doubt I will exceed the 250k's I hit on the Audi A8 (on my secret stretch of road).
Talking about childhood fantasies, has anyone noticed the massive decline in that rag called Debonair? Not that it was anything major to talk of ever, but the women there look too big to even be in a Bhojpuri film. But that said, Bhojpuri films are getting quite risque, I saw one on cable the other day in which there was a song sequence reminiscent of Mandakini in THAT sequence, though the actress was not Mandakini-hawt!
Shwangy talks about how the Delhi Auto drivers are getting all weird.