<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:25:09.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>susu samba</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-5676671568742750254</id><published>2009-08-09T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T13:24:48.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smorgasbord</title><content type='html'>As I sit here at my computer, listening to "Polka on the Banjo," happy with my lunch of chicken masaman curry with rice, I can't help but think about a few things that have crossed my mind over the last couple of weeks. Random things that caught my attention and soon became the subjects of my daydreams. So that's really the theme for this post. Random thoughts, no real thread tying them together other than, well, their randomness and the fact that I thought about them. You haven't. Yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1. Burping is one of those things you never knew you needed to do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, somtimes you get gassy and need to let out some gas through one hole or the other, but that's not what im talking about. Often enough you just burp without warning or expectation (out loud or discretely) and suddenly the world becomes a happier place. You feel better. You smile to yourself. You high-five the stranger next to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;2. Talk show hosts say a bunch of nonsense to their guests during ad breaks.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time you watch Conan or Letterman or whoever, notice what they do right after the announce the first ad break after their first guest comes on. They always seem to lean towards their guest and smile and say something like "Thank you" or whatever before talking about some other nonsense. I think it's all a load of bull. They've met them backstage. They've thanked them for coming on their shows. I think they're just playing a little game that we've all played when we were younger (and still play now) where there are three people and you whisper some sort of nonsense into one person's ear and pretend like it's the most imporant thing in the world to make the third feel left out and laugh about it without letting the other person know. That is the game that Conan and Letterman play. I have uncovered their secret. They make me feel left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3. I am easily fooled by lab coats.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store people at Kiehl's wear lab coats. And coax me into buying expensive nonsense that I then don't necessarily use. All because they seem like they know what they're doing, even if they're just reading what's written behind the product. I have failed in my attempt at being an intelligent consumer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;4. Why are cartoons becoming more and more realistic?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do they want to be called sit-coms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;5. My shuttle driver is a wise man&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day he tried to convince me that the two smartest people in the history of mankind were the two chaps that invented GPS and the rice cooker. I like my shuttle driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;6. Using hand sanitizer after you pee is pointless&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hand sanitizer kills germs. Urine is virtually sterile. What are you achieving here? I mean, come on now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-5676671568742750254?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/5676671568742750254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=5676671568742750254&amp;isPopup=true' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5676671568742750254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5676671568742750254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/08/smorgasbord.html' title='Smorgasbord'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-8095797453879035540</id><published>2009-07-18T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T15:02:31.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Greatest Thing Since...</title><content type='html'>...sliced bread? That's the standard expression isn't it? "OMG this is like soooo awesomeee, it's like, the greatest thing since sliced bread!" No. No thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What might first come across as a stern critique of sentence construction in generation whateveryouwanttocallit, is actually more than just that. I won't go into the details of how peeps these days use stupid filler words like, "like," because I definitely do as well. Rather, this is an attack on the greatness of sliced bread. Didn't see that one coming, did you? DID YOU???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, ok, sliced bread is good and convenient and whatnot but is it really that great? I mean, think about it...you could just cut a baguette in half and make a sandwich and it would probably taste better. As for toast, well you can toast any sort of bread and it'll taste good. Sliced bread is good and convenient and I'm a fan, but does its greatness deserve the reverence that is showered upon it? I think not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These, on the other hand, are quite marvelous and are rather under-rated and are greater than sliced bread:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Automatic faucets&lt;br /&gt;Not only do these save water, money and the environment, but they are also quite convenient for (closet) germophobes like me. There is no touching of the faucet involved. No touching. Who knows where people's fingers have been right before they try turning on a tap. An automtic faucet means you don't have to use a paper towel to open the tap, thereby saving trees along with water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Cooking&lt;br /&gt;Fire doesn't get the respect it deserves. Cooking is never given the credit she deserves (yes, she's feminine). Can you imagine eating raw chicken or pork? I can't, because I can't imagine dying. Also, Going back to the bread thing, there wouldn't even be bread without cooking, let alone &lt;em&gt;sliced&lt;/em&gt; bread (maybe in the olden days, before the invention of sliced bread, people said, "OMG this is the greatest thing since baking." Unclear.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Shoes&lt;br /&gt;Walking bare foot is one of the ways I feel like I'm home and can relax but at the same time I wouldn't want to walk around the streets with no shoes. The concept of putting a layer of padding between your foot and the ground is ingenious. Whoever thought of it deserves a prize. Maybe making 2008-2009 the return of the gladiator sandal is our way of showing the shoe inventor that we still love him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-8095797453879035540?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/8095797453879035540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=8095797453879035540&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8095797453879035540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8095797453879035540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/07/greatest-thing-since.html' title='The Greatest Thing Since...'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-6295152881755960307</id><published>2009-07-10T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T06:00:57.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peaceful Coexistence</title><content type='html'>First of all, I must apologize for the delay between postings. Life has been a little crazy for a number of reasons and I will do my best to change that. It's now 5:30am and I am posting because I cannot sleep and am awake for no good reason. Finally I have a spot of time that's pretty stress free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The news for the last few weeks has been dominated by what's been happening in Iran and how the protests show serious cracks in the system, similar to those that were seen in 1979 which eventually made Pahlavi flee the country in 1979. Whether or not this truly means that Iran will become more democratic is up for debate - some say it's a matter of when rather than if but at the same time you have the dragooning that might prove to be a significant obstacle. Whether or not Khamenei and Mousavi can peacefully coexist remains to be seen, but that is not what this blog post is all about, believe it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this talk of peaceful coexistence made me think about instances of the same that I have seen/observed. Now while these aren't necessarily as significant as what I just mentioned above, they aren't trivial either. So here's a list that shows that peaceful coexistence is possible:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. DBGB and Dogmatic&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Few could have ever seen this coming...Two places that pride themselves upon their ability to make amazing sausage. One calls themselves a Gourmet Sausage System while the master behind the other boldly proclaims to have loved sausage ever since he was born. How can they both survive? They're both special in their own way. DBGB's Viennoise is countered by Dogmatic's Turkey with Truffle Gruyere. The former's baba au rhum for dessert faces stiff competition from the latter's drool-inducing vanilla ice-cream. The list goes on. And hopefully, so will these two. For a long time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Leno (now Conan) and Letterman&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Leno stepped down, it ended a pretty bitter rivalry that Letterman and he shared. Although the ratings always favoured Leno, Letterman did have his moments of magic like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXpYk7WGN5Y"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. And now, that rivalry will continue...what Letterman loses with Paul Shaffer, Conan gains with Max Weinberg. What Conan loses with having Jimmy Fallon following him, Letterman gains with having a vastly improved Craig Ferguson. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. Button-fly vs. Zip-fly jeans&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is there a tougher choice to be made in this world? Little did Gideon Sundback know that by essentially inventing the modern zipper he would be adding massive amounts of stress to shoppers around the world, for generations to come, piling on questions with no good answer...Should I choose comfort over fit? Should I choose urinating convenience over potentially peeing in my pants? Should I remove chances of embarassing myself by forgetting to unzip my pants or risk the chance of losing a button and having it all hang out? Questions, questions, questions...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. The roof-top bar and the bar with outdoor seating&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh summertime (it's one word now). Besides being an acute skew in the ratio of exposed skin to covered skin, summertime also gives rise to another phenomenon - outdoor drinking. And most outdoor drinking experiences can be categorized into rooftop or outdoor/patio. Fortunately for us all, the city has an abundance of both as well as more than enough people to fill them both. Rooftop bars easily trounce their counterparts with their view, the bars with patios have some killer people-watching potential. The one clear advantage that rooftop bars have is the ability to spit on the people below. One could argue that this could be by spitting at people as they walk by below too, but I would advise against that. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-6295152881755960307?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/6295152881755960307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=6295152881755960307&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6295152881755960307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6295152881755960307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/07/peaceful-coexistence.html' title='Peaceful Coexistence'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-2150791759489921062</id><published>2009-06-13T07:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T16:29:33.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The way Indians look at a photograph...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SjO3EO5LbUI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/CWCJQyW5Aa8/s1600-h/gallery_enlarged-chris-brown-rihanna-orlando-magic-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346818465964191042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SjO3EO5LbUI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/CWCJQyW5Aa8/s400/gallery_enlarged-chris-brown-rihanna-orlando-magic-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's an interesting photograph that was all over the tabloids that I never read. Ever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now while the kind folks at wherever were nice enough to blow up the faces of Rihanna and Chris Brown and talk about what a big deal it was for them to be a few feet away from each other, every Indian that looks at this picture will focus something (or rather, someone) else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two seats to Rihanna's right lies the focus of mine and every Indian's attention. Ladies and gentleman, behold the Sardarji. Don't miss the matching turban. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-2150791759489921062?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/2150791759489921062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=2150791759489921062&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2150791759489921062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2150791759489921062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/06/way-indians-look-at-photograph.html' title='The way Indians look at a photograph...'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SjO3EO5LbUI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/CWCJQyW5Aa8/s72-c/gallery_enlarged-chris-brown-rihanna-orlando-magic-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-6395191546222469382</id><published>2009-06-12T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T17:48:49.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He talks to me, teaches me, and is kind to me.</title><content type='html'>It seems like this chap above has taken it upon himself to make his presence known to me in the bathroom. I have no control over this, it just seems to happen. The latest of these episodes occurred last Sunday at Norma's in the city which, just by the way, might have the best orange juice I have ever tasted.  The brunch in general is fantastic too, but that's a different matter altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, some background:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Some of the details might seem arbitrary and/or unnecessary, but it will all fall into place at the end)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wardrobe: Shirt with shorts and belt. Shorts had button fly. Belt was a military-style fabric belt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ipod scenario: I have a 160gb Ipod (sadly they don't make them that big any more). My case of choice is the one made by Contour Design. Have had the case ever since I bought the Ipod. Bought the Ipod a couple of years ago. Case is well scratched up. Case-replacement has been needed for a few months now. Case-replacement has been put off due to laziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Bladder scenario: I pee a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Location: Norma's and Norma's bathroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Beverage intake: Water and OJ. Bottomless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, here's what happened. Multiple glasses of water and juice were consumed. Excretory system functioned at top speed. Bladder filled up rather quickly. Brain received message. Limbs responded. Bathroom was reached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the problems began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my Ipod hitched to my belt, and had button-fly shorts, which meant I had to undo the belt. My need to pee greatly dampened my presence of mind. The Ipod was left untouched. The laws of gravity cranked into gear. The Ipod fell to the ground. I stared in horror. I continued peeing. I finished peeing. I then freaked out a little, and didn’t know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did He talk to me?&lt;br /&gt;Men can’t really aim so the ground beneath a urinal always has a nice little cocktail of urine from a variety of sources. Having the Ipod fall down to the ground was his way of telling me to get a new cover NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did he teach me?&lt;br /&gt;He basically taught me not to procrastinate excessively. He showed me that a stitch in time could indeed have saved nine, or could have kept the pee away from the Ipod. You know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was he kind to me?&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, He made sure the Ipod did not fall down face first into the pee (the scroll-wheel on the front is the only part that is exposed). Secondly, He gave me the wisdom to choose this particular cover which is easy to remove. I gathered a whole bunch of tissues, picked up the Ipod, took it out of its cover, dropped the cover into the trash can and saved the Ipod, never letting the pee-pee touch my fingers or the Ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have since bought a new case that is identical to that lost one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-6395191546222469382?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/6395191546222469382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=6395191546222469382&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6395191546222469382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6395191546222469382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/06/he-talks-to-me-teaches-me-and-is-kind.html' title='He talks to me, teaches me, and is kind to me.'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-6928382310120805856</id><published>2009-05-31T17:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T15:48:14.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that work has taught me</title><content type='html'>So as my birthday month comes to a close, I can confidently say that it has involved a fair share of reflection, thought and contemplation. I now know the meaning of life, the origin of sausage, the national fruit of the planet formerly known as Pluto, and the reason behind the ubiquitous "peace sign" in every Asian photograph. I also had to go into work on a Sunday where I tried to be productive and list out the important things that work has taught me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Dessert gives a meal closure:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's the not-so-great cafeteria, or maybe it's my love for all things sweet, but no meal at work is satisfactory without some for of dessert. Now for those of you that think I spend my post-lunch time stuffing my face twinkies or eating copious amounts of apple pie, check yourself. That only happens on Tuesdays. Wednesdays too, on occasion. Sadly, I make do with watermelon flavoured chewing-gum (thank you, Orbit Mist) or overly sweetened coffee on most days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. A hoagie/hero/sub/whatever you want to call it costs as much as a wrap but fills you up more:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've watched a few people watch in amazement as I ask the sandwich lady for a hero rather than the usual wrap or roll that most people ask for. They stand back and invariably order the same when their turn comes along. They feel the need to try what the cool chap in front of them just ordered. And for good reason too. The bread tastes better and it fills you up more. Win-win situation? Oh yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. A smuggled cafeteria meatball tastes fantastic:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that about the forbidden fruit being the sweetest? Oh yeah, it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Small talk and silence are both bloody awkward at a urinal:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason there is nothing non-awkward about peeing next to a co-worker. No matter how well you know him, it's just awkward. Should you make small talk? Should you be silent? It doesn't matter because it'll be awkward. Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. A desk job ensures that you become super fast at using the num-pad on a keyboard without making any mistakes:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyone can use it super fast without looking but the not making any mistakes part is what distinguishes the people with lives from the people that work at a desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Realisation that few things are as satisfying as dropping a deuce at work:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Well, why not? I've gone into detail about this before, but for those that missed &lt;a href="http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/05/call-him-what-you-want-but-hes-up-there.html"&gt;that post &lt;/a&gt;- You're relieving yourself. You're getting paid to relieve yourself. You can walk back to your desk with a smile on your face. You feel that much lighter. You've heard the guy in the stall next to you trying to be discreet while you let one rip. There really aren't too many things that compare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-6928382310120805856?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/6928382310120805856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=6928382310120805856&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6928382310120805856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6928382310120805856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/05/things-that-work-has-taught-me.html' title='Things that work has taught me'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-4620349309449858886</id><published>2009-05-14T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T19:39:24.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pre-Birthday Reflections</title><content type='html'>So I turn a year older tomorrow. I'll be special for one day. Until my next birthday. Maybe I'll get presents (hint: I want presents). But turning older makes me wiser in theory and I feel like I must reflect and contemplate the mystery that is life. For this edition of sususamba, I shall go through some of the conventions that our jaded society has engrained in our heads for no good reason and has thus made our lives so much more complicated. It would be easier if humans remembered the little joys of life and did not get caught up in the unnecessary trials and tribulations that do anything but enrich that interval between birth and death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conventions that I will reverse when I rule the world:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Ironed clothes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An office-going bachelor's worst enemy is the wrinkled shirt/pair of trousers. Why can't I just walk into work with a wrinkled up shirt without having people think I just walked in after a long night out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. A lack of/well-groomed facial hair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the thinks I look forward to most on weekends is the freedom to not shave. It takes too much time and is too much of a hassle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Farting in the absence of others&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, this one might be debatable because of the smell aspect, but few things are as liberating as letting one rip in a place full of people. Think I'm weird? The next time you're at a loud, crowded bar or club, try it. You won't have to feel conscious because nobody will hear it and anyone could be the dealer of the stench. But you will know. And you will smile. I have smiled many times before. Many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Breakfast food only being eaten in the morning&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I salute restaurants that serve breakfast all day. I frown upon people that have told me it's weird to eat a good omelette at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Paying for things you buy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, this might be hard because of a little thing called economics but when I rule the world economics won't matter. Shopping will be free. And I will be pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Having your schedule determine the time you wake up &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would be reversed. Sleep is good. If you disagree, tell me so when we meet next and I will slap you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, interestingly, as I read over what I just wrote, I see that the subjects I speak about are: work, eating/drinking, toilet, sleep, shopping. These are pretty much the main focuses of my life right now. Happy birthday to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-4620349309449858886?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/4620349309449858886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=4620349309449858886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4620349309449858886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4620349309449858886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/05/pre-birthday-reflections.html' title='Pre-Birthday Reflections'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1921938064008320573</id><published>2009-05-07T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T16:09:27.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Call him what you want, but he's up there...</title><content type='html'>So I don't know how much I believe in religion but I definitely there's someone up there doing things, making things, breaking things, and what have you. I was reminded of his/her existence today at work. Call that person God or whatever else you'd like to, I'm pretty sure that this being exists in some form or the other. How was I reminded of this, you ask? Well clearly that being didn't endow you with the virtue of patience. But anyway, here's the story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few things in life are as satisfying as taking a dump at work. Oh I said it. Feign disgust if you may, but I know all of you reading this that have worked in an office feel the same way. Here's why dropping the pressure at work is so awesome:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You get paid for relieving yourself&lt;br /&gt;2. You can break scoring records on games on your cellphone&lt;br /&gt;3. You can catch up on reading&lt;br /&gt;4. You can escape work for a few minutes&lt;br /&gt;5. You can have some "you" time&lt;br /&gt;6. You can observe the toilet habits of your co-workers&lt;br /&gt;7. You can play a guessing game with yourself trying to figure out the identity of the defecator in the next stall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress...this post was supposed to be about how I was reminded of the existence of the chap up there. So today I felt the urge to drop a deuce and made my way to the poo-poo-house. I was happy to find it empty and proceeded to wipe down the seat and double-line it with toilet paper before I sat down to do my business. I started playing a game on my phone and was content with life when suddenly, the phone slipped out of my hand, hit the floor, and slid about 4 feet to my right, before finally settling in the stall next to mine. This was the first reminder of the chap's existence - I was the only one in the bathroom at the time. But clearly that could change any second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sort-of-related sidenote: Can you imagine the conversation if the stall next to mine had been occupied? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me - Err, hello there dear Co-worker That Is Taking A Dump &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;CTITAD - Um, hi. Thank you for interrupting me. I was this close to creating a new high score...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me - Any time. Umm, could you please hand me my phone so that I may try to do the same? Thanks!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I naturally did what anyone in my place would do. I panicked, I hyperventilated, I quickly did my bit to ensure demand for Georgia-Pacific, all the while hoping that nobody else would enter my little kingdom. Luckily, nobody did (Reminder #2).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled to myself, picked up my mobile communication device, put it in my pocket, and went to wash my hands. I couldn't stop smiling. He was up there and he was smiling down on me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1921938064008320573?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1921938064008320573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1921938064008320573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1921938064008320573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1921938064008320573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/05/call-him-what-you-want-but-hes-up-there.html' title='Call him what you want, but he&apos;s up there...'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-115864169651998753</id><published>2009-05-04T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:27:29.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nein. Nahin. Non. No.</title><content type='html'>Here's a list of things you cannot have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Multiple "Best Friends"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Errr best = better than ALL the rest = better than anyone = singular. Tina Turner knew. You should too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. A "Most Unique" anything&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Redundant. Sick and tired of seeing reviews of restaurants/places/cities/whatever that describe it as being the "most unique" whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. A good cover of a classic song&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a classic. Leave it alone. Appreciate it for what it is. And don't try to imitate it. You will fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. A chap that looks good with jeans and a denim jacket&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top or bottom. Choose one. Never both. Never both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Too much free time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a thing just doesn't exist. Boredom? Yes, that's a possibility. But too much free time? Nein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Music of a genre "that all sounds the same"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do us all a favour and keep comments like this to yourself. For example, saying that electronic music all sounds the same is pure ignorance and shows your lack of an ability to discern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. A lack of an appetite or a desire to eat because 'it's an odd time'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat when you're hungry. I don't care what the clock says. Your stomach knows what time it is. And your stomach will tell you. Smart thing, this stomach of yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Too many birthday presents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Not possible. If you want to test out the theory, buy me a crap load of birthday presents and see if it makes me mad. Try it. Please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-115864169651998753?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/115864169651998753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=115864169651998753&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/115864169651998753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/115864169651998753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/05/nein-nahin-non-no.html' title='Nein. Nahin. Non. No.'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-9144857490841974934</id><published>2009-04-26T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T15:06:25.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun, Sand and an Old Lady</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTaj0brpII/AAAAAAAAAII/xNMzk1pbGLQ/s1600-h/IMG_6863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329124567991166082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTaj0brpII/AAAAAAAAAII/xNMzk1pbGLQ/s400/IMG_6863.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ8b6pQZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/BITO4cHRUVE/s1600-h/IMG_6859.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329123891395248530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ8b6pQZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/BITO4cHRUVE/s400/IMG_6859.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ8D8YSgI/AAAAAAAAAH4/jMBQgSTn4bY/s1600-h/IMG_6855.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329123884960074242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ8D8YSgI/AAAAAAAAAH4/jMBQgSTn4bY/s400/IMG_6855.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ7_4oJtI/AAAAAAAAAHw/6eT0uHN6L_M/s1600-h/IMG_6849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329123883870594770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ7_4oJtI/AAAAAAAAAHw/6eT0uHN6L_M/s400/IMG_6849.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ7oo-s4I/AAAAAAAAAHo/TZQBAPNp2zM/s1600-h/IMG_6845.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329123877630948226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ7oo-s4I/AAAAAAAAAHo/TZQBAPNp2zM/s400/IMG_6845.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ7d9cQFI/AAAAAAAAAHg/bZAX2qkve64/s1600-h/IMG_6840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329123874763980882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTZ7d9cQFI/AAAAAAAAAHg/bZAX2qkve64/s400/IMG_6840.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-9144857490841974934?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/9144857490841974934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=9144857490841974934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/9144857490841974934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/9144857490841974934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/04/sun-sand-and-old-lady.html' title='Sun, Sand and an Old Lady'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SfTaj0brpII/AAAAAAAAAII/xNMzk1pbGLQ/s72-c/IMG_6863.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1776735591491622128</id><published>2009-04-19T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T16:51:39.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner and a ???</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Food is quite good. I mean, what's not to like? I guess vegetarians could argue against me but they aren't real people so that doesn't count. BUT what makes food better is pairing it with a fun activity. Great company always complements great food but other than that, here's my list of things to do while you eat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Live Jazz/other live music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from Jazz at the Lincoln Center and it was pretty fantastic. So much so that it inspired me to write this post. Live music is almost always good and this was no exception. Plus the guitarist chap seemed cool in the elevator after the show. What I don't understand are people who walk in 90 mins late for a 2 hour show. Yeah, I'm sure they're busy and whatnot but are you kidding me? Stay at home and order take out next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Medieval Times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been to Medieval Times twice. How many times has my knight won? ZERO. I still hold a grudge against the Blue knight (oddly enough I was placed in the blue knight section both times). But it's still a fun experience when you're ten, or however old I was at the time. I like people responding to my banging on the table with a plate, by coming over with more food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Movie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food tastes so much better when it's smuggled into a movie theater. This is one of the many uses of the gigantic handbags that female human beings carry. Munching on a nice fat burrito from Chipotle, while watching a movie, is pretty awesome. Plus, the people around you give you dirty looks when you noisily unwrap or tear the foil. But these dirt looks don't bother me one bit. I know it's merely their way of channeling their jealousy. Burrito&gt;Popcorn. I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Live Sports&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few things beat watching a sport live, in the flesh. Being at a stadium, surrounded by thousands of crazies, watching your heroes battle it out, living vicariously through the athletes, wishing you had the ability to control the happiness or sadness of thousands watching you at the stadium or elsewhere, makes any sort of food taste really good. Soggy pizza, mystery-meat hot-dogs, salty dry pretzels - bring it on. Wolfing down junk food to fuel your adrenaline rush fools the taste buds easily. Throw in a beer and it's perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. TV Shows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV shows can be quite addictive. I've found that good simple food at home pairs well with good TV. Maybe that's only because I live alone at the moment but it's a worthy companion. The only drawback is that sometimes I get too engrossed in the show and 30 minutes later, my food is cold. However, few things beat following a long day at work with kicking back on a comfy couch with tasty food and entertaining television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1776735591491622128?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1776735591491622128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1776735591491622128&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1776735591491622128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1776735591491622128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/04/dinner-and.html' title='Dinner and a ???'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-6475410702902207235</id><published>2009-04-13T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T19:33:17.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I entertain myself at a train station...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SeP0Rd_vinI/AAAAAAAAAHY/1quYh3MmZT4/s1600-h/IMG_6886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324367765428996722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SeP0Rd_vinI/AAAAAAAAAHY/1quYh3MmZT4/s400/IMG_6886.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SeP0ROjOzSI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/3AtW1w8xUT0/s1600-h/IMG_6880.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324367761282878754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SeP0ROjOzSI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/3AtW1w8xUT0/s400/IMG_6880.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzzo-RYOI/AAAAAAAAAHA/9vA3b-ME_Iw/s1600-h/IMG_6891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324367252979540194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzzo-RYOI/AAAAAAAAAHA/9vA3b-ME_Iw/s400/IMG_6891.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzzVbJdeI/AAAAAAAAAG4/A7WpdUoRSFY/s1600-h/IMG_6888.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324367247731946978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzzVbJdeI/AAAAAAAAAG4/A7WpdUoRSFY/s400/IMG_6888.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzfinDBdI/AAAAAAAAAGY/6nIvZDPUhno/s1600-h/IMG_6876.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324366907674133970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzfinDBdI/AAAAAAAAAGY/6nIvZDPUhno/s400/IMG_6876.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzffHeNsI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/-C1u3siApHg/s1600-h/IMG_6875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324366906736391874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SePzffHeNsI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/-C1u3siApHg/s400/IMG_6875.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-6475410702902207235?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/6475410702902207235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=6475410702902207235&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6475410702902207235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6475410702902207235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-i-entertain-myself-at-train-station.html' title='How I entertain myself at a train station...'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SeP0Rd_vinI/AAAAAAAAAHY/1quYh3MmZT4/s72-c/IMG_6886.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-5122441387288890288</id><published>2009-04-12T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T18:22:35.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time goes by...</title><content type='html'>One of the things I like to have a list of is "Places to hit up to kill time" in the city. Yeah there are the typical sleeping, going to museums, hanging out at the park kinda deals but you can only do so much of that. So anyway, here's my latest list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;During the day, when stores are open:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Virgin Records&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, this will soon be a thing of the past. I've spent countless hours of my life at these stores and would gladly repeat over and over. Whether it's the new releases section in the front or the electronic music section in the back, Virgin is quite magical. I've discovered more than a few gems here, thanks to the way stuff is displayed but more importantly, the store has also rescued me when nature has called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Bookstores - Barnes&amp;amp;Noble, Borders etc.&lt;br /&gt;This is probably the easiest place to kill time. Why? Bookstores have books. Books are interesting and enjoyable. Reading books takes time. Connect the dots - Bookstores are an enjoyable way to kill time. Plus, they usually have cafes that overcharge you for little nonsense like scones n shit but I feel compelled to buy something anyway, as a sort of tolling fee for reading their books without buying any. They also have answering machines for nature-calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the morning, before most stores open:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Street Markets:&lt;br /&gt;Although these cannot satisfy my urinary or defecatory needs, they're generally awesome places to kill time. There's always a plethora of interestng characters selling overpriced junk to fools that think they're getting a super deal (I have been amongst the fools many times). These markets also usually have good food and drink that's fun to munch/sip on while you walk around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Barbershops:&lt;br /&gt;These usually open early and always have space for walk-ins in the morning. Few things in life make me as happy as getting a good haircut (shampoo, massage and all). Maybe it's just me but being able to sit there in a comfy chair, sipping on tea or a beverage of my choice, while someone (usually an attractive female) plays with my hair whilst shampooing and cutting it makes me smile. It also makes me look like a true hero. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the evening, when stores are closed:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sheesha/Hookah&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think of my system as being fairly free of debauchery-related toxins and so my conscience and the joy of sheesha allow me to hit up a sheesha bar every now and then. Usually, Horus Cafe (10th and A, not 6th and B) is the destination of choice. An orange sheesha, a mixed grill platter and two hours later, I'm a happy chap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Late at night, after leaving the bars and before going to bed:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Korean BBQ&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Kum Gang Sang. I don't know what the hell that means, but to me it represents so much more than a 24-hour Korean barbeque place that has great food. Where else can you have:&lt;br /&gt;a) rock climbing&lt;br /&gt;b) a waterfall&lt;br /&gt;c) a white piano that is sometimes played and&lt;br /&gt;d) science lessons&lt;br /&gt;while you stuff your face with bulgogi? The answer is nowhere. Nowhere but KGS (and I'm not referring to the Karachi Grammar School). Added bonus: the panchan keeps changing and they've been throwing in added freebies like salad and dessert as well. What an experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-5122441387288890288?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/5122441387288890288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=5122441387288890288&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5122441387288890288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5122441387288890288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/04/time-goes-by.html' title='Time goes by...'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-8524085332667304787</id><published>2009-04-05T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T19:04:21.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Upside Down but Rightside Up</title><content type='html'>Odd food combinations that could kill you, while tasting great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Goat-cheese stuffed Corn Bread - 202&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew? Who knew? Such an awesome combination and yet this weekend was the first time I had ever come across it. Corn bread by itself is awesome and goat cheese...you know what I think about &lt;a href="http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/cheater-cheater.html"&gt;goat cheese&lt;/a&gt;. Put them together...mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Bacon Chocolate Bars - Vosges&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't gag. Don't vomit. Give it a chance. I read about it in a magazine and knew I had to try it. It's definitely different, but it works. Think salted caramel with chocolate with a little meat thrown in. Words can't describe it well,  so go try it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Bagel Dogs - Auntie Anne's&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking unhealthy things at a fast food joint and making them unhealthier usually ends in vomitous diaster (think deep fried cheesecake or mac n cheese bites), but Auntie Anne really did well here. The bread is soft and buttery and the hot dog is, well, a hot dog. A perfect snack to chomp on while you walk around a mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Deep fried Hollandaise with Eggs Benedict - WD~50&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know it sounds terrible, but Wylie Dufresne is quite the magician. I'm not a fan of eggs benedict but I ordered these anyway and was converted immediately. The entire dish looked unlike anything I had ever eaten before and the combination of the eggs and the bacon and the deep fried hollaindaise was almost perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Pickle Sandwiches - home (not the restaurant)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note: Pickle here doesn't refer to the little cucumbers preserved in brine but rather, Indian pickle. I refuse to explain what it is, so if you are curious, google it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pickle sandwiches are the ultimate snack. So tasty, so easy to make and yet...so unhealthy. Take two slices of nutrition-less soft white bread with a generous layer of oil-laden mango pickle in between them and you have a cardiologist's nightmare. And a hungry man's wet dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Bagel Rolls - every sushi place in Atlanta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The South has its way of asserting its influence on anything and everything. The Japanese came with their healthy raw fish and rice and the South said "Nay, we must maintain our gigantum waistlines" and invented the Bagel Roll. Rice rolled around a big chunk of cream cheese, a small piece of salmon, dipped in batter and deep fried. Two small pieces are more than I can take at a given meal and although they aren't spectacular, they're pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Frito Pie - Sonic or other places in the Souf&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Southern Star. There's chilli which is loaded with calories even without the cheese that's added on top, but clearly the Southerners weren't happy with just that. No no no no no. The calorific content was not nearly high enough so they threw in Frito's with chilli and cheese and rolled it up in a lardy tortilla and gave birth to the Frito Pie. I could feel it clogging my arteries right away, but knew that if I died right there, it wouldn't be such a sad demise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Meat Chips - KaDeWe Food Hall&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Germans might not have too many superstars in the culinary world but the creator of this is definitely an unsung hero. I shall therefore sing his praise. He's a genius. Whoever it was, he/she took two of the greatest things - meat and chips - and morphed them into one and created the Meat Chip. The Ultimate Snack. Health Schmealth, meat chips are awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. Cheesecake Lollipop Tree - David Burke Townhouse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technically, this isn't an odd food combination because it's just cheesecake, but it's in the presentation. Everyone loves lollipops and everyone loves cheesecake so when I saw these on the menu I knew I had to try them. It's great cheesecake but the fact that it's presented as a tree makes you want to eat more and more. 5 minutes later you chide yourself for being greedy and stupid but then stop and savour the taste that's still in your mouth and smile contently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-8524085332667304787?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/8524085332667304787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=8524085332667304787&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8524085332667304787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8524085332667304787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/04/upside-down-but-rightside-up.html' title='Upside Down but Rightside Up'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-3543859521880595914</id><published>2009-04-01T16:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T16:54:25.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you see what I see?</title><content type='html'>Like I said &lt;a href="http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/people-are-people.html"&gt;earlier&lt;/a&gt;, I don't really like taking photos of people. I find taking shots of people to be pretty awkward and generally avoid doing so. Don't know about you, but I'm never comfortable going up to someone and saying, "Can I shoot you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I much prefer taking shots of inanimate objects and, in particular, the way they reflect light. So here are a few photos along those lines; and to add a theme to the entire lot, I chose shots that are either taken through or are of doors and windows. Hope you like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP95MCNr8I/AAAAAAAAAGE/dUCP4WZqQvE/s1600-h/IMG_3597.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319874743779569602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP95MCNr8I/AAAAAAAAAGE/dUCP4WZqQvE/s400/IMG_3597.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP943GWs2I/AAAAAAAAAF0/eoc4IIlber4/s1600-h/IMG_3272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319874738159792994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP943GWs2I/AAAAAAAAAF0/eoc4IIlber4/s400/IMG_3272.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319874743127967650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP95Jm3B6I/AAAAAAAAAF8/_jTjzbrFdzw/s400/IMG_3358.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP94sixr_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/iHBAuNqjGnQ/s1600-h/IMG_3149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319874735326212082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP94sixr_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/iHBAuNqjGnQ/s400/IMG_3149.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP94CRfbuI/AAAAAAAAAFk/76t9J_sbbLM/s1600-h/IMG_0548.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319874723979423458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP94CRfbuI/AAAAAAAAAFk/76t9J_sbbLM/s400/IMG_0548.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-3543859521880595914?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/3543859521880595914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=3543859521880595914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3543859521880595914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3543859521880595914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-you-see-what-i-see.html' title='Do you see what I see?'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SdP95MCNr8I/AAAAAAAAAGE/dUCP4WZqQvE/s72-c/IMG_3597.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1863021159465325622</id><published>2009-03-30T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T18:30:02.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even a broken clock is right twice a day...right?</title><content type='html'>People can be quite stupid. I'm not saying I'm the sharpest tool in the shed but some people make me look like a bloody genius. As my Econ 101 professor once said (in a thick Iranian accent), "Stupidity is really a very common problem. It is pretty amazing, the amount of time you spend correcting the errors of stupid people." He took the words right out of my mouth. We all have our moments, but honestly, if you've asked any of the questions below (and I'm sure most of you have), look in the mirror and slap yourself. Hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. (At a movie theatre) What are you doing here?&lt;br /&gt;Response: I came here hoping to see your pretty face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. (After you've lost something) Where did you last put it?&lt;br /&gt;Response: Up your bum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. (As you're coughing up your lungs and blowing your nose) Are you sick?&lt;br /&gt;Response: No, I'm just getting into character for my upcoming movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. (After someone calls you at 4am on a weekday) Oh, did I wake you up?&lt;br /&gt;Response: No, I was up hoping your lovely voice would disrupt my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. (After you walk inside, drenched) Is it raining outside?&lt;br /&gt;Response: No, I just got peed on by the doorman. And I liked it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1863021159465325622?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1863021159465325622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1863021159465325622&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1863021159465325622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1863021159465325622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/even-broken-clock-is-right-twice.html' title='Even a broken clock is right twice a day...right?'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-5469633622743515356</id><published>2009-03-24T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T19:05:01.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sounds n things</title><content type='html'>A lot of people often criticize me for liking songs without paying attention to, or appreciating the lyrics. While this is sometimes the case, I still like to listen to songs for the simple reason that they sound good. My ears approve of these songs and my brain agrees. It's sort of like food from taco bell where you don't really know what it is, but you like it anyway. So to prove my point, here are a few songs that I like a lot in languages that I don't understand at all. They still sound great and I have the excuse of not needing to understand the lyrics because, well, they're in a language I don't understand at all. I just said that. And for all of you that are going to look up translations and tell me I would like the songs even more if I read them, all I can say to you is &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLiGZHrfs5w"&gt;this.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.vimeo.com/1211060"&gt;Praan by Gary Schyman &lt;/a&gt;(Background music for the Where the Hell is Matt? video)&lt;br /&gt;Language: Bengali&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: The words are actually an excerpt from Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x84r6n_kaze-wo-atsumete_music"&gt;Kaze Wo Atsumete by Happy End&lt;/a&gt; (From the Lost in Translation Soundtrack)&lt;br /&gt;Language: Japanese&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: The song is from the 70's even though it sounds pretty contemporary. Also, for some reason there is little to no information about the song on the internet. The link is not the original but it's all I could find...so much for youtube having everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQYQTFudrqc"&gt;Neunundneunzig Luft Balons by Nena&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Language: German&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: The cold-war protest song was so named because the guitarist saw balloons being released at a Rolling Stones concert and wondered what might happen if they floated over the Berlin Wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0PWukxRV8U"&gt;Mi'Ma'amakim by The Idan Raichel Project&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Language: Hebrew&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: The chap was conscripted to the Israeli army and played in the army rock band and toured military bases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCw9zo0CAZU"&gt;Now We Are Free by Lisa Gerrard and Hanz Zimmer &lt;/a&gt;(From the Gladiator Soundtrack)&lt;br /&gt;Language: Hebrew&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: Hans Zimmer, wearing a dark suit and playing the keyboard, appears in the video to 'Video Killed the Radio Star' by The Buggles which was also the first video to ever be aired on MTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNgSeJzLJFc"&gt;Volare by Gipsy Kings&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Language: Calo&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: They sing in Calo, not Spanish. Also, if you ever play Volare at a party, everyone will sing slong. Everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpClWx_2jvE"&gt;Didi by Khaled&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Language: Arabic&lt;br /&gt;Interesting Fact: He's called Cheb Khaled which means "Young Man Khaled" even though he's quite an old chap now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-5469633622743515356?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/5469633622743515356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=5469633622743515356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5469633622743515356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5469633622743515356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/sounds-n-things.html' title='Sounds n things'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-8343695402424134152</id><published>2009-03-22T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:11:32.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People are people</title><content type='html'>I sometimes try to take photos of people and usually don't do too well. This might be part of the reason why I don't really like being in pictures myself. So anyway, I was going through files on my computer and I came across these that I think are half decent...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316214926171531042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9TxAVZyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/97EyX5DTEAw/s400/IMG_3523.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9NAc2WxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cl7kidfzj3I/s1600-h/IMG_3154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316214810058578706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9NAc2WxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cl7kidfzj3I/s400/IMG_3154.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9GwvXF7I/AAAAAAAAAD8/91X0KuWOyAo/s1600-h/IMG_0745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316214702762039218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9GwvXF7I/AAAAAAAAAD8/91X0KuWOyAo/s400/IMG_0745.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9AZK4gNI/AAAAAAAAAD0/YP5cP5IDFl8/s1600-h/IMG_0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316214593355808978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9AZK4gNI/AAAAAAAAAD0/YP5cP5IDFl8/s400/IMG_0742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb82qPIFWI/AAAAAAAAADs/wTDQ4OyObq4/s1600-h/IMG_0709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316214426138318178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb82qPIFWI/AAAAAAAAADs/wTDQ4OyObq4/s400/IMG_0709.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-8343695402424134152?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/8343695402424134152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=8343695402424134152&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8343695402424134152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8343695402424134152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/people-are-people.html' title='People are people'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Scb9TxAVZyI/AAAAAAAAAEM/97EyX5DTEAw/s72-c/IMG_3523.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-4296404240600302063</id><published>2009-03-17T18:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T19:08:01.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameless Advertisement #1</title><content type='html'>So I don't usually do this but every once in a while you come across something that makes you toss the rules out the window and say, "Yes I can." That something is called Dogmatic. Located in the northwestern corner of Union Square lies this temple of goodness. I walked by it a couple of weeks ago and made a mental note to return. I didn't realise that by not going in then I was depriving myself of immense pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this Dogmatic nonsense you ask? I pity your ignorance - not for the sake of not knowing but for the sake of your stomach that has not yet experienced the pleasure of a Dogmatic dog. They call it the Gourmet Sausage System. But I think it's so much more. That three word tag-line, while catchy and all, hardly does justice to the joy that this place brings. Here's one of the many reasons why you should go to Dogmatic (I don't care where in the world you are):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. The Wall Mural&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It basically shows you the how the meat gets from the farm to Union Square. But no, it doesn't just show a pig, a slaughter-house, a sausage maker, a truck and the restaurant. Oh no no no. How silly of you to even think of such a thing you creativity-lacking fool. Robots carrying sausages, men lifting buildings, flying trucks dropping baguettes, oh my!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Home-made Sodas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lemon-lime tastes like fresh-lime soda you get in India, the ginger soda tastes like really good ginger ale and the coconut tastes like nothing you've tasted before but something you wish you had invented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. The Communal Table&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not usually a fan of communal seating but they got it right. It's big enough that you don't have to talk to the people around you and yet it's small enough for you to evesdrop if you want to. The "stools" are suspended and slide out from under the table and they have hooks under the table to hang your coats or shopping bags. Genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Friendly Staff&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've written a little about how much a friendly staff can enhance the experience at a store or a restaurant and this proves my point. They're super friendly and chirpy without being annoying. And since I went there 3 times in 2 days, we even had some nonsense conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. The Ice Cream&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I was there they passed around free samples of their vanilla ice-cream and I was sold. It's some of the best vanilla ice-cream I've had in a long time and the fudge sauce on it makes it even better, if that's possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. The Hot-dogs themselves&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it is a hot-dog place so why would I be raving about it if they had crap hot dogs? Yes, their hot-dogs are amazing. Beef, Turkey, Chicken, Pork or Lamb (they have a vegetarian version that substitutes two asparagus spears for the meat. Lame, but yet I have the urge to try it out just because it seems like this place can do no wrong). Good bread. Jalapeno-cheddar, truffle-gruyere, sundried tomato-feta or mint-yogurt sauce (the chimichurri isn't that good and I don't like horseradish). Mmmmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that you say? There must be something bad about the place? Well, I do provide objective opinions about everything so here's the part that could be negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) It isn't open super late...yet. I asked them about it and they said they were going to extend the hours for summer time. So this will soon be removed from the "negatives" list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Sadly, Dogmatic hasn't been able to screen their clientele very well. Some of the people there were kinda lame aka the two guys I was sitting opposite the first time I went there. They were talking about some weird nonsense and being loud and annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) The don't have a bathroom! This is the big downer. However, there's a Barnes and Noble a few feet away that has plenty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some call it meat with bread. Some call it gourmet fast food. Some call it a &lt;em&gt;haute-dog. &lt;/em&gt;I just called it Magic. Plain and simple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-4296404240600302063?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/4296404240600302063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=4296404240600302063&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4296404240600302063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4296404240600302063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/shameless-advertisement-1.html' title='Shameless Advertisement #1'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-4506174227030468663</id><published>2009-03-12T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T16:09:47.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Susu Research File #438957</title><content type='html'>In m&lt;a href="http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/bird-of-preyflying-high.html"&gt;y last post&lt;/a&gt; I mentioned how I almost always order either ginger ale or bloody mary mix on an airplane but never on land. I spoke to a few people about it and apparently, this is something that a lot of people have noticed as well. Here I thought I had come up with an astute observation, but alas, I was not the first. This is similar to the time I thought I had discovered how to make fart sounds with my hands, only to realise that every 8 year old knew my magical discovery. But I digress. The stratospheric beverage anomaly (I might not have discovered it, but I have now named it. I win. I win.) got me thinking and I was determined to find out the true cause of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For ginger ale, the most convincing explanation I found was that ginger helped relieve queeziness that many people experience on airplanes. I don't know if it's an Indian thing but a little ginger juice or sucking on a piece of ginger is often prescribed to cure nausea. Ginger ale has ginger (at least in the name). Makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For bloody mary mix, on the other hand, the explanation that had me sold was that it can prevent you from getting &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deep_vein_thrombosis"&gt;DVT&lt;/a&gt; on an airplane. That's a good reason to drink tomato juice...living kinda rocks. However, I definitely don't order it for that reason and I'm sure most people that order it dont even know what DVT is. So that doesn't answer my question...why the hell do so many people oder bloody mary mix on planes???I personally just drink it because I like the taste. Here are a few reasons cited by peeps that I uncovered during my research:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It goes well with salty snacks like peanuts and pretzels (or do the peanuts and pretzels go well with the bloody mary mix? hmmm).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It's free on planes and more expensive than coke (the beverage, not the drug mr. one-track-mind) at a grocery store&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. It's a meal in a can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It mixes well with the vodka in my hip flask. I assumed that was what everyone else was doing too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. It makes you pee less than water does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. It's like a quirky nerd - less popular, but more intriguing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I feel like I have to cuz the guy next to me always orders one&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-4506174227030468663?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/4506174227030468663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=4506174227030468663&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4506174227030468663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4506174227030468663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/susu-research-file-438957.html' title='Susu Research File #438957'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1327344500417714519</id><published>2009-03-09T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T18:27:40.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bird of Prey...Flying High</title><content type='html'>Travelling is fun, transportation is not. That is the conclusion that I arrived at after having spent over 20 hours of my life in air-related transport over the last three days. And the sad part is, all those hours didn't involve me crossing an ocean or going to a new continent. Hell, it didn't even result in my leaving this country. Getting to a destination is fun but the means aren't always so - kind of like a suppository, which leaves you happy and relieved via a not-so-fun process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this weekend, as I spent many a moment wishing I could cry like the babies that always seem to surround the middle seats that are always assigned to me, I also did some thinking. My trusty phone (not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;crackberry&lt;/span&gt; or a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;iphone&lt;/span&gt;, but a simple little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;candybar&lt;/span&gt; phone) in flight mode was perfect for jotting down my thoughts (it's the modern day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Moleskine&lt;/span&gt;, Mr. Hemingway).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a list of things that I find myself doing when I'm involved with the air-complex (train to the airport, monorail to the terminal, actually flying etc.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Drinking Ginger Ale and/or Bloody Mary Mix&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never order these anywhere else, but nothing tastes better 30,000 feet in the sky. What's strange is that I also find a ton of people ordering these drinks on planes , but almost never see anyone getting one at a restaurant or a bar or even at somebody's home. I don't ever have these stocked in my fridge but as soon as I see that drink cart coming down the aisle, I start drooling and having a mental battle over which of the two I want to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Eating crumbs from the bottom of an empty bag of mini pretzels&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overly generous domestic airlines in the US have reduced me to this. After having being told to choose one when I asked for BOTH a bag of mini pretzels and a single granola bar (I can be greedy sometimes), I found that the taste of pretzels is inversely proportional to the number of pretzels left in the bag. The last pretzel tastes better than the first and the last crumb is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bestest&lt;/span&gt; morsel of food ever. So much for the law of diminishing returns...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pssshhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Going from having hyper-music-ADD to listening to complete songs for long periods of time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone that has had the honour and privilege of spending extended periods of time with me in a car will tell you that I have music-ADD. I can't listen to more than 2-3 minutes of a song before wanting to listening to the next one. Flying does strange things to me - I either want to listen to the next song after 20 seconds of the current one or I'll let the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt; play whole songs for a while. I don't know what it is. Some say pressurized cabins are merely chambers filled with happy gas while others say that low pressure makes people like the smell of fart. I like both theories although I don't believe in the latter...I only test its accuracy on fellow travellers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Listening to announcements&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never listen to announcements otherwise, but for some reason I find myself listening to the announcements that they make on planes for a number of reasons. First, I try to see if I can actually see the person making the security announcements (I think to myself...if I can't see them, is that grounds for suing?). Secondly, I listen for flying time to see if the plant is going to beat the arrival estimate printed on my boarding pass or not (if the flight is delayed I just add the delay time to the scheduled arrival time). Third, I have nothing better to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Running on to the tarmac to wave to the pilot to open the doors and let me in&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True story. Don't believe me? Just ask the passengers who gave me dirty looks throughout the journey (initially for delaying the flight and then for testing my flatulence theory mentioned in #3 above)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1327344500417714519?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1327344500417714519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1327344500417714519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1327344500417714519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1327344500417714519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/bird-of-preyflying-high.html' title='Bird of Prey...Flying High'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-6561722327730236035</id><published>2009-03-05T04:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T05:00:07.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Porcelain</title><content type='html'>For the last 5 days I've had both my meals out in the city. Since I like to drink water or some sort of libation with my meal, I tend to visit the bathrooms at restaurants (a not-to-complex input-output kinda deal here). I also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;relised&lt;/span&gt; that a restaurant with a good bathroom leaves a lasting impression. I still remember going to the bathroom at Planet Hollywood in Orlando when I was around 5 years old and being amazed. I don't remember what I ate, but I do remember where I urinated. It makes that much of an impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, using the facilities at all these restaurants got me thinking about a few things that can really set apart one loo from another:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cleanliness and a lack of a pee/fecal matter smell&lt;br /&gt;This goes without saying. I know I'm peeing but I'd much rather pee in a clean place. I also don't particularly enjoy gagging from the smell, when I enter a bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Music&lt;br /&gt;Music in the bathroom makes the experience so much more fulfilling. If you want to know why, it's probably because you haven't peed to music before. If you have and still don't understand, shame on you. Also, at loud restaurants that play good music, the bathroom is a great place to &lt;a href="http://www.shazam.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shazam&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;a song since it isn't drowned out by all the talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Cloth napkins or the linen-like paper napkins&lt;br /&gt;Wiping my hands (yes, I do wash my hands after I go to the bathroom) on soft cloth napkins makes me happy. Those linen-like paper napkins are also pretty cool but I sometimes feel bad using them because they probably use more trees than regular paper napkins. I hate hand-dryers...they just make my hands super dry, and then I find myself hoping for condensation on my water glass to temporarily hydrate my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Proper lighting&lt;br /&gt;I know interior designers have their restaurant concepts and some of these include low lighting, but dude, I like to see where I pee (I also like to rhyme apparently). Shooting in the dark is definitely not a good thing in a bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Good soap&lt;br /&gt;I like it when my hands smell good. Soap that smells and feels good is great. Added bonus: good lotion and/or mouthwash (with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disposable&lt;/span&gt; cups) and/or toothpicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the list...might be more later, but that's all I can think of for now. I just want to add one thing I don't like: bathroom attendants. I'm referring to the places that have a person standing in the bathroom with a bunch of cologne bottles, cigarettes, chewing gum etc. This person also proceeds to open the tap and give you soap when you wash your hands. I'd much rather just open the tap on my own and not be surrounded by lollipops and mints that I want but feel guilty to take. Also, I feel obligated to tip this chap but don't because I never take any of the goodies he has sitting there and refuse when he tries to give me soap and water. This whole deal just makes me uncomfortable and goes against the basic principle that any bathroom designer should be cognizant of: relief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-6561722327730236035?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/6561722327730236035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=6561722327730236035&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6561722327730236035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6561722327730236035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/03/porcelain.html' title='Porcelain'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-3703485021460753085</id><published>2009-02-27T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T20:01:12.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living peeps I'd like to have lunch/dinner with</title><content type='html'>A little while ago I had a discussion with &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/hbshakes.blogspot.com"&gt;the guy who peed in a store &lt;/a&gt;and he said if he had to choose a person he could have lunch with, living or dead, he'd choose Justin Timberlake. Now while I don't agree with his choice, he did have good reasoning for not choosing someone like Gandhi (he wouldn't eat much) or Lincoln (who would want to wear a suit and a top hat to lunch?). So here's a list of living peeps I'd like to have lunch or dinner with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lil_john"&gt;Lil John&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Saix3ERCZZI/AAAAAAAAACk/WQUgYxe3RhU/s1600-h/lil-john.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- His bling would light up any dinner table (literally and figuratively)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I want to see if his vocabulary exceeds two words - yeah and ok&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivanka_Trump"&gt;Ivanka Trump&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivanka_Trump"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(one of her companies just declared bankruptcy so she should &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Saiyf0IBv9I/AAAAAAAAACs/ySTj-PxviDw/s1600-h/ivanka-trump-pictures-photos06.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;have free time)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Saiyf0IBv9I/AAAAAAAAACs/ySTj-PxviDw/s1600-h/ivanka-trump-pictures-photos06.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/Saiyf0IBv9I/AAAAAAAAACs/ySTj-PxviDw/s1600-h/ivanka-trump-pictures-photos06.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Have you seen her?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I hear she's super smart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Have you seen her?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Krugman"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paul Krugman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;(no, that is not an image of &lt;a href="http://www.cathsfilmforum.com/wp-content/ClooneySyriana.jpg"&gt;George Clooney from Syriana&lt;/a&gt;) &lt;a href="http://www.thewashingtonnote.com/archives/krugman.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- He's the nerd that everyone should want to be like&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- He published an initial version of the theory that won him the Nobel Prize when he was 26 (that gives me 4 years to catch up)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordon_Ramsay"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gordon Ramsay &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(I stole this idea from a girl that thinks white people get ulcers on their feet from tight shoes)&lt;a href="http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/famecrawler/2008/06/01-07/gordon-ramsay-lamb-chop-s-kids-fuck-foul-mouth-curse.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- He would make sure that the food was good&lt;br /&gt;- Swearing is fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joaquin_Phoenix"&gt;Joaquin Phoenix&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDZl22QUl20"&gt;Watch this &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Yes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Where_the_hell_is_matt"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Matthew "Matt" Harding&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Anyone that thinks of &lt;a href="http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/?fbid=izay2BGs7ZH"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; is a genius&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I want to learn that dance from the originator chap&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-3703485021460753085?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/3703485021460753085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=3703485021460753085&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3703485021460753085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3703485021460753085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/living-peeps-id-like-to-have.html' title='Living peeps I&apos;d like to have lunch/dinner with'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-740122793530935501</id><published>2009-02-24T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T19:46:59.905-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make me go aaahhhh</title><content type='html'>(That's a scared &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;aaahhhh&lt;/span&gt;, and not an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ohmygodthistotallyhitsthespot&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;aaahhhh&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had some good sushi and as always, I wasn't too brave with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wasabi&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wasabi&lt;/span&gt; and I don't get along and it got me thinking about a list of a few things that I'm terrified of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Falling into and subsequently getting stuck in a toilet because I forgot to put down the seat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Painful, embarrassing and potentially fatal. What if nobody were around? How would I get out? Last time I checked, most bathrooms didn't have porcelain-breaking-hammers handy so you could crack your way out of such an emergency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Dropping a tray of food at a cafeteria&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was easily my number one fear at the dining hall at Emory. It's a three tiered dining hall and I NEVER sat on any of the lower levels because that meant climbing down 5 or 10 steps (depending on which tier you sat at) with a tray full of food. Downfalls (notice the pun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hehe&lt;/span&gt; I'm so clever) include ridicule, being the subject of laughter, broken bones, being scalded by hot food and burning eyes from a hot sauce attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Being stabbed in the eye or cheek by pointy clothes racks&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I'm at a store, this is my only fear. Some people fear not finding their size, some people fear other violent shoppers, I fear this. I've come close many times, where I turn and find myself dangerously close to one of those stand-alone metal racks that sulk because I've stolen their thunder by avoiding them. I have been triumphant and dare I say undefeated in my battles with clothes racks. The outcome of the war, however, remains to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Getting paint or ink on my skin that wont come off with spit (as a last resort option, after I've tried to rub it off)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't and will never ever understand why people write their to-do lists or draw on their skin. That's just wrong. It's like simple word association. You say fry, I say pan. You say lamp, I say bulb. You say pen, I say paper. Not skin. What is wrong with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Crying indefinitely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I've eaten too much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wasabi&lt;/span&gt; or chopped too many &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;onions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once chopped onions with swimming goggles on so that I wouldn't cry. Swimming goggles don't let water in but onion fumes on the other hand...Both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;wasabi&lt;/span&gt; and onion fumes make my cry like no other. These are my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;kryptonite&lt;/span&gt;. Some people said they could never cry as much as they did when Leonardo DiCaprio died in Titanic. Those people have never cut onions or popped a piece of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wasabi&lt;/span&gt; into their mouths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-740122793530935501?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/740122793530935501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=740122793530935501&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/740122793530935501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/740122793530935501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-that-make-me-go-aaahhhh.html' title='Things that make me go aaahhhh'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-3746529390734519590</id><published>2009-02-23T04:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T04:36:29.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1,000 hits!</title><content type='html'>The original three readers have friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-3746529390734519590?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/3746529390734519590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=3746529390734519590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3746529390734519590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3746529390734519590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/1000-hits.html' title='1,000 hits!'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-6475870572510144196</id><published>2009-02-23T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T21:03:54.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons from the Oscars</title><content type='html'>So quick follow up to the post below...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I should have bet mad money on the Oscars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Anil Kapoor needs to chill out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Hugh Jackman can be funny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Mickey Rourke is a disco dancer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. A.R. Rahman is small and likes to run off stage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Kate Winslet is beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. The awards are moving away from Americans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Big drums always sound cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Japanese winners make the best speeches ("Sank you my pencil")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Movies set in the Victorian era will win you an Oscar for costume design&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-6475870572510144196?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/6475870572510144196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=6475870572510144196&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6475870572510144196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/6475870572510144196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/lessons-from-oscars.html' title='Lessons from the Oscars'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-2357640908020002279</id><published>2009-02-22T19:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T21:04:27.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oscar Predictions</title><content type='html'>The Oscars begin in less than an hour and as usual, I find myself wishing I had watched more of the nominated movies. I'm only going to predict winners for categories that I pay attention to. No offense to the peeps that work extremely hard and make these movies so much more than what they would otherwise be, but I don't even know what "art direction" really is. And I took Film 101.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, based on stuff I've read, my intuition, rumours I've heard and my ability to eliminate all but one option based on no logic, here are my predictions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Actor in a leading role&lt;br /&gt;Mickey Rourke...he dresses the part and people love a comeback story. If he thanks his dogs again (he did after he won the Golden Globe) it'll probably be a first.&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Sean Penn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Actor in a supporting role&lt;br /&gt;Heath Ledger...he was pretty awesome and I'm sure his OD'ing will help his cause&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Heath Ledger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Actress in a leading role&lt;br /&gt;Meryl Streep...too senior to not win&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Kate Winslet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Actress in a supporting role&lt;br /&gt;Penelope Cruz...this will be the upset win. They love throwing in some curve-balls to show they also support offbeat cinema rather than just big banner films&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Penelope Cruz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Animated feature film&lt;br /&gt;Kung Fu Panda...supporting China will be good for the economy&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Wall-E&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Cinematography&lt;br /&gt;Slumdog Millionaire...cuz I'm Indian&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Slumdog Millionaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Costume design&lt;br /&gt;Benjamin Button...only because the other movies nominated here are too similar to previous winners in this category&lt;br /&gt;Winner: The Duchess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Directing&lt;br /&gt;Slumdog Millionaire...I'm still Indian. Frost/Nixon also deserves it.&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Foreign Language&lt;br /&gt;The Class...it's the only one I've watched&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Departures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Makeup&lt;br /&gt;Benjamin Button...it's obvious&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Benjamin Button&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Music (Score)&lt;br /&gt;Slumdog Millionaire...I like A.R. Rahman&lt;br /&gt;Winner: A.R. Rahman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Music (Song)&lt;br /&gt;Slumdog Millionaire...I like the combination of M.I.A. and A.R. Rahman even more. And it has a 66.67% chance of winning.&lt;br /&gt;Winner: A.R. Rahman for Jai Ho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Best Picture&lt;br /&gt;Slumdog Millionaire...see 8. The book (Q&amp;amp;A by Vikas Swaroop) was a lot better though.&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Slumdog Millionaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Writing (Adapted Screenplay)&lt;br /&gt;Frost/Nixon...watch it and you will know why.&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Slumdog Millionaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Writing (Original Screenplay)&lt;br /&gt;Milk...political correctness&lt;br /&gt;Winner: Milk&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-2357640908020002279?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/2357640908020002279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=2357640908020002279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2357640908020002279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2357640908020002279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/oscar-predictions.html' title='Oscar Predictions'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-2402103304741667499</id><published>2009-02-19T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T20:57:31.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truths that nobody will admit</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;1. Picking your nose is fun (watching...not so much, as &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/sung-un-heroes-part-2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;previously stated&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Yeah some people say it's disgusting but few things compare to the satisfaction of finding gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. You check yourself out every time you pass a mirror or a glass window&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These mirrors usually work well and show me good images of myself. I smash the mirrors that don't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Britney Spears has some catchy songs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Ok, so she's a little crazy and yeah, people love to hate her music but every time you hear one of her songs you find yourself singing along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. You have watched Mean Girls 8 times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It's like your favourite pair of pyjamas...it gets better with time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Trashy TV (Next, Parental Control etc.) is entertaining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Why watch something intellectully stimulating after a long day when you can watch parents get cussed out by the person their kid is dating?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. This blog is rather awesome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Tell me something I don't already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. You fiddle with your cellphone just to act cool in crowded places&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and hope someone will miraculously call or text you just then to lift your self esteem. Sadly, this rarely happens. But only you know this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Randomly using swear words gives you immense pleasure&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares if the situation even calls for profanity? All I know is that a four letter word here and there makes the world a happy place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. Sleeping in is often more enjoyable than a crazy night out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man. Sleep is so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. You are not above a juicy piece of gossip&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this includes YOU. Don't act like you're above it. Oh you think you are? Well wait till you hear about what I heard someone saw the other night at that one place...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-2402103304741667499?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/2402103304741667499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=2402103304741667499&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2402103304741667499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2402103304741667499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/truths-that-nobody-will-admit.html' title='Truths that nobody will admit'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-2695755359820712808</id><published>2009-02-17T05:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T07:55:05.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping = Fun?</title><content type='html'>I like to shop. A lot. There, I said it. And I'll say it again - I like to shop. In particular, shopping for shoes, jeans, music, books and electronics fills me with joy and happiness. Killing an hour at a music store is too easy. Same with electronics or books. Finding a good pair of shoes or jeans can be quite rewarding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, while the product that you're shopping for can often make or break the entire shopping experience, here are a few other things that could do the same:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Snooty store workers&lt;br /&gt;This is probably one of the things I hate the most about going to a good store. Nine times out of ten the people working at the store act like you're doing them a favour by buying stuff from their store. Um, last time I checked, kind sir, I was a twenty-something buying stuff from your store and you were a fifty-something that still worked on the floor of a retail store. Yeah. And what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Bathrooms that are hard to locate&lt;br /&gt;This one is for department stores in particular because I know they almost always have bathrooms. The last thing I want is to be tortured by poor signage at a store when I know they have a bathroom. Don't tease me. Show me where your bathroom is. Show me now. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Carry bags that are unwieldy&lt;br /&gt;Often times stores sacrifice practicality for aesthetics when it comes to the bags that they give you. The bags look cool and all but are either difficult to carry because of some weird design or are incredibly uncomfortable to hold because of the material that they're made from. NTY. No, Thank You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Water bottles&lt;br /&gt;Some stores have lying around, or give you, bottled water. These stores definitely get bonus points. Costs them nothing but it earns them a gold star. I like free stuff. I'll drink the water even if I'm not thirsty and the fact that it's free makes it taste better. If you think water has no taste, your taste-buds are dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Tissue&lt;br /&gt;Having clothes wrapped in tissue or buying shirts or socks or whatever with tissue sheets in between them make me happy. Why? Because...I like crinkling it so it makes that rustling noise. Don't feign bewilderment. I know you do it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Unexpected discounts&lt;br /&gt;Buying stuff that you know is on sale definitely has its advantages but have you ever gone to the cashier and had them scan the item and tell you that it's a further __% off? I have. And it's wonderful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-2695755359820712808?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/2695755359820712808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=2695755359820712808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2695755359820712808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2695755359820712808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/shopping-fun.html' title='Shopping = Fun?'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-8404372004112040775</id><published>2009-02-15T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:47:44.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make me go hmmm</title><content type='html'>1. Are revolving doors always opening or closing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Can you slam a revolving door?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Where do cats lay their eggs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If flies have a lifespan of a day or two, where do they die? I almost never see dead flies, but there's always a ton of them flying around. Where is the giant fly-cemetery?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Are people vegetarians out of choice because they love animals or hate plants? If they do love animals, why do they eat all their food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Is it possible to cry underwater?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Why would you want to sleep like a baby when they wake up every two hours with poop in their pants?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. If our knees bent the other way, what would chairs look like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I know it's a figure of speech and all, but what did come first - the chicken or the egg?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Why do noses run and feet smell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-8404372004112040775?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/8404372004112040775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=8404372004112040775&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8404372004112040775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8404372004112040775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-that-me-go-hmmm.html' title='Things that make me go hmmm'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-3248395261408429157</id><published>2009-02-12T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T17:33:58.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sung Un-Heroes Part 2</title><content type='html'>I've recently started paying attention to song lyrics and it's quite an amazing concept. I mean, the words have meaning and stuff. It's not just a mere collection of alphabets that rhyme and go with the beats in the background. So anyway, I found that some lines stuck more so than others and although most people have been paying attention to lyrics longer than I have, I wonder if you caught all of these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Part 1 can be found &lt;a href="http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/sung-un-heroes-part-1.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zixSoFlK9mQ"&gt;Digging in the Nose by The Noble Savages&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"When you take your fingah, you don't wanna lingah"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practical advice...while picking your nose is often rewarding, you don't want to do it for too long lest you get caught. It's fun to do and all that but less so if you're a spectator to the event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lk1awSIang"&gt;Roses by Outkast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Roses really smell like poo-ooh-ooh"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite bitter these guys can be. Quiiiiite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFLGRidfFo4"&gt;Ninja Rap by Vanilla Ice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Have you ever seen a turtle get down?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more important question here is...Do you really want to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPeBN9be4m0"&gt;Joan of Arc by David Guetta&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Don't say nothing &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love in the fall &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God saint child &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't you miss of it all"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the many lyrical masterpieces that comprise David Guetta's list of records. I found myself singing along to one of his songs a while ago and then paused for a sanity check and asked myself, "Wait, what does that line actually mean?" and thus began a long journey of discovery that lasted a few decades where blood, sweat and tears were shed only to realise that this chap is no philosopher but a rhymerofwordsthatdontmakesensewhenputtogether. I slept soundly that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14IRDDnEPR4"&gt;99 Red Balloons by Nena&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Everyone's a super hero&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everyone's a Captain Kirk"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myself included.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-3248395261408429157?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/3248395261408429157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=3248395261408429157&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3248395261408429157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/3248395261408429157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/sung-un-heroes-part-2.html' title='Sung Un-Heroes Part 2'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-7437050434542312569</id><published>2009-02-11T20:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T20:42:20.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I will pay a little extra for</title><content type='html'>1. Charmin Ultra Soft Toilet Paper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A physical cd versus buying the album on iTunes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Fresh, never frozen shrimp/prawns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Good chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. A good pair of shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Simply Orange with lots of pulp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Fabric Softener&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Home delivery on a cold/rainy/lazy day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Good speakers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. A taxi in New York when it's cold/rainy/lazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Waterproof sneakers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-7437050434542312569?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/7437050434542312569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=7437050434542312569&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/7437050434542312569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/7437050434542312569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-i-will-pay-little-extra-for.html' title='Things I will pay a little extra for'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-8682071294815848365</id><published>2009-02-08T18:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:55:48.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ulta Sulta</title><content type='html'>Things other people like, that I am not a huge fan of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Winnie the Pooh&lt;br /&gt;He's just grumpy and anti (as a chap sitting in Barbados might say). He's only happy-looking in the posters for the cartoon but that's just a sham. I've watched the videos...he's annoying and makes Eeyore look cool. Anyone that can makes a donkey look cool in comparison is like a silly garnish on a plate...a waste of space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holi"&gt;Holi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't know who &lt;a href="http://www.nd.edu/~iand/IANDWebPage/Holi-03-1.jpg"&gt;these &lt;/a&gt;people are, but that's the first photo that popped up when I googled Holi. Why would you do that to yourself and then smile about it? I never have and never will understand the joy of willingly smearing yourself with coloured powder that stains your skin for a week or two. It makes you look uglier than you already are and probably tastes nasty. Oh and I'm sure the feeling of having it in your eyes is lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Licorice&lt;br /&gt;It looks like plastic and tastes worse. It's even spelt wrong; since when has "ice" been pronounced "ish"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Apple Flavoured Hookah&lt;br /&gt;Everyone loves apple flavoured hookah. Everyone loves double apple flavoured hookah even more. Because you can distinctly taste two apples - NOT. It tastes like fennel and it makes me go to the poo poo pot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Green Chutney (the one you get at Indian restaurants...usually made with a combnation of coriander, mint and green chillies)&lt;br /&gt;It's green and looks like pond water. This is the only reason why I don't like it and never eat it. Honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Barack Obama&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm going to win a ton of friends with this one. I have nothing against him but am not a huge fan of his (read the first line of this blog entry). So before you are up in arms and calling me a republican or citing blasphemy, hear me out. Yes, he's an extremely smart chap. Yes, he's a great orator. Yes, his heart is in the right place. Yes, he's a million times better than his predecessor. However, he has no real plan. His economic plan has been bastardized to foster "bipartisan relations", his promise to focus on healthcare has been forgotten, he's had three key cabinet choices show tax defaults, I could go on. And yet, what amazes me is the tremendous faith everyone has in him. I hope for everyone's sakes that he pulls it together and does a good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Anything that stains my tongue&lt;br /&gt;I usually can't see my own tongue unless I look into a mirror (keen observation, I know) but knowing that I'm eating something that's staining my tongue makes me want to spit it out. Sorry, Yves Klein, but I would not have tried your cocktail even though I'm a fan of your art and blue urine is a cool concept.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Yves Klein opened an exhibition of his on April 28, 1958 (his 30th birthday) at the Gallerie Iris Clert. Here, he served people a blue cocktail, a mixture of gin, Cointreau, and methylene blue that stained their mouths blue. To Klein's surprise and delight, the next day, all who drank the cocktail found their urine stained blue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-8682071294815848365?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/8682071294815848365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=8682071294815848365&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8682071294815848365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8682071294815848365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/ulta-sulta.html' title='Ulta Sulta'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-8502128794812518485</id><published>2009-02-08T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T07:47:28.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheater Cheater</title><content type='html'>I was at The Stanton Social for dinner last night and on the table was a plate of pierogis, amongst other things. Now, pierogis are pretty good in general but what makes these especially noteworty? They had two elements that reflected culinary cheating. No, I am not talking about cheating by suggesting that it was frozen and came from a bag or anything. Rather, the elements I refer to are: caramelized onions and goat cheese. These two (like the rest on this list) will make almost anything taste infinitely better and are part of a cook's cheat sheet. It's impossible to go wrong with these (some apply to savoury, some apply to sweet). If I were a cook thinking up a menu for a new restaurant, I'd try to incorporate as many of these as I possibly could. :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Goat Cheese&lt;br /&gt;2. Caramelized Onions&lt;br /&gt;3. Butter&lt;br /&gt;4. Deep Frying&lt;br /&gt;5. Bacon&lt;br /&gt;6. Liquidy chocolate&lt;br /&gt;7. Chorizo&lt;br /&gt;8. Some sort of alcohol*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The alcohol evaporates and all that but the flavour it leaves behind is still pretty special. Example? Mussels with white wine and garlic. Steak and Guinness Cornish pasties at a UK train station. Tequila lime shrimp. Jamaican rum cake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-8502128794812518485?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/8502128794812518485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=8502128794812518485&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8502128794812518485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/8502128794812518485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/cheater-cheater.html' title='Cheater Cheater'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-2836121402915383321</id><published>2009-02-05T17:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:16:45.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sung Un-Heroes Part 1</title><content type='html'>If you're reading the title and thinking, "Wait, isn't the phrase 'un-sung hero'?," I bite my thumb at thee. This is why I'm writing and you're reading. I mean what I say and I say what I mean. Usually. This is not an exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, it's an ode to lines from songs (hence the 'sung') that will never win accolades or grammy awards or any of that (un-heroes...get it now?). But, they all have a special place in my heart. To some, that's the most valuable prize of them all. If you're now thinking, "Ok, ok let's get on with it," you're forgiven. I like to ramble on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have a long list so for now, I'm going to restrict my list to artists beginning with the letter 'B.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0Xl0ZEKJzo"&gt;Song 2 by  Blur&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I got my head checked&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;By a Jumbo Jet"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you really need an explanation as to why I like it? I mean...he just got his head checked. By a jumbo jet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_28DEnD-lsE"&gt;Kya Soorat Hai by Bombay Vikings&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I am just an ordinay guy,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I ain't no macho man, I ain't no hi-fi"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetic? Yes. Creative? Of course. Brilliant? Absolutely.&lt;br /&gt;This song is full of gems like this but just this once, I said to myself "Ok you're going to have to choose your favourite child." So I did. And how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mk0xmCZQWmk"&gt;Intergalactic by The Beastie Boys&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I like my sugar with coffee and cream"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this because I agree. Simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SceOdSS-Gw&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Million Dollar Bash by Bob Dylan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Well, I looked at my watch I looked at my wrist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Punched myself in the face with my fist"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It rhymes and makes me laugh. I'm a simple chap and simple things make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaZWQHzfGXs"&gt;Show Me the Meaning by the Backstreet Boys&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Show me the meaning of being lonely"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, if this hypothetical person did exist, he/she (yes, I'm politically correct...big ups to the female readers) wouldn't be able to show them the meaning of being lonely because they would be with each other and therefore would not be lonely. Why do I like this? Because it proves to me (and now to you all) that I can over-analyze nonsense. It helps me sleep better at night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-2836121402915383321?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/2836121402915383321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=2836121402915383321&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2836121402915383321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2836121402915383321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/sung-un-heroes-part-1.html' title='Sung Un-Heroes Part 1'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1890202904777130192</id><published>2009-02-01T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T20:27:58.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Durty Durty</title><content type='html'>I was at dinner in the City the other day at Chinatown Brasserie (great food, by the way) and found myself paying $45 dollars for a meal including tax and tip, NOT including dessert. And I was a little hungry when I was done too. This triggered off a string of emotions within me and made me realise something - I miss the South. A lot. Why? I'll tell you why...oh i'll tell you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The server at the restaurant was feisty and mean and acted like she was doing us a favour rather than doing her job. Not to sound arrogant or anything but if I'm paying to eat at a fairly up-market restaurant, decent service is the least I expect. I'm not saying I want someone to carry me from my table to the bathroom when I so wish, but a pleasant demeanour would be a good start. Peeps in the south make you feel at home and ask you about your day and whatnot. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I like being called sir. I'm not saying that I like people to refer to me with a title or anything but for the most part, males are called sir and females are called ma'am in the south. Respect is a good thing and in general, the people in the south show a lot more of it than do people in the north. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Going out to dinner in the south will not only leave you satisfied but will also leave your wallet/bank account pretty similar to what it was before you paid for the meal. Only in the south could I get a piece of french toast bigger than my face, a huge biscuit with sausage gravy and a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for about $6. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. This might be something that's unique to Atlanta, where I spent 4 years, but almost every street corner has a person just standing there, hanging out. Are they selling stuff? Don't ever ask me questions. But when you're driving around and you see a chap standing at a street corner (daytime and/or after-dark) and he's talking to himself or dancing to a beat in his head, you can't help but smile. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Package stores. If you think I'm talking about UPS, you're wrong and haven't ever lived in the south. I know what brown can do for you and that is not one of the reasons I like the south. Look it up. I'm not a big drinker or anything but "package store" has a good ring to it and sounds better than other words for it. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Publix. I don't know why, but I miss Publix a lot. Like, a lot a lot. It's always been a happy place for me. A place where in the middle of the day old women make little samples for you to try. A place to get good cake (vanilla cake with butter cream icing). A place to buy eggs to throw off balconies. The list goes on. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Nobody in the north will ever say "Y'all come back now, ya hear?" Southern accents are awesome. I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there'll be another list of reasons why I like the South. But this is all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1890202904777130192?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1890202904777130192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1890202904777130192&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1890202904777130192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1890202904777130192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/durty-durty.html' title='Durty Durty'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1462845046071534880</id><published>2009-02-01T09:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T17:38:22.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I drove through Round Hill Road in Greenwich, CT which is apparently one of the most expensive residential streets in the world. It was really pretty, with snow covering the roofs of houses and branches of trees under a blue, sunny sky. The houses were nice and are definitely worth a lot of money (The Helmsley House is on sale for $125 million) and have enormous grounds and heated driveways and whatnot. However, the thing that struck me most about that entire drive was how I wasn't really envious of any of the houses/didn't ever want to own or live in one of those houes. Did I only see myself living in a bigger, grander house you ask? No. I'm not that shallow (or am I?). Here are some of the reasons why I would not want to live on Round Hill Road in Greenwich, CT (in no paticular order):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No cell-phone reception&lt;br /&gt;There was little or no reception on the entire street. Call me a slave to technology or whatever but I get pretty frantic when I expect to have cell phone reception but don't. I understand the merits of a getaway with no phones or communication but living in a place with no cell phone reception would have me on edge for the most part and that is not what I want at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Bad weather&lt;br /&gt;Snow is like clothing from H&amp;amp;M...it looks good but feels terrible. Yeah I know that the location of your home is often a function of the location of your place of work but I'm sorry if you have the money to buy a $100 million house, you clearly have the money to move to a warmer place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Lack of a pleasing view&lt;br /&gt;All these houses were next to each other and had big walls around them so from the inside, I imagine, all you can probably see is your snow covered lawn in the winter or the foliage in summer. Now both these can be pretty and pleasing to the eye but I'd get bored of it pretty quick. If you can't have the hustle and bustle of a city, at least look for a view that you wouldn't get bored of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Isolation from commercial activity&lt;br /&gt;We were driving along the road and were hungry...the handy gps told us the nearest restaurant was about 5 miles away...and since it's all residential you have to drive super slow so it took us about 20 minutes to get to a restaurant. Two words - nein, danke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Super long driveways&lt;br /&gt;As the friend I was with brilliantly pointed out...what if you really need to pee on your way home? The long driveway would put you that much further from your pee pee pot. As &lt;a href="http://hbshakes.blogspot.com/"&gt;the guy who peed in a store &lt;/a&gt;once pointed out, you always feel like you're gonna explode just as you get closer to home and need to pee. Maybe the mind gets excited when it sees familiar surroundings and goes into overdrive. I don't know the specifics. But it's true. And if i had to wait that much longer to pee, I would have to start wearing diapers or keeping an empty bottle in my car. TMI? Absolutely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1462845046071534880?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1462845046071534880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1462845046071534880&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1462845046071534880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1462845046071534880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/02/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-4994522883328492806</id><published>2009-01-28T19:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T19:42:46.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Names</title><content type='html'>So a person who was born to a female sibling of my father's is now a few months away from bringing a new little one to this planet. In short, my cousin is expecting a baby! And while I am sure all 3 of my readers will join me in congratulating her and wishing her all the best, we have a more important task at hand...naming the new little chap/female chap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already came up with Shohit and Rolpa for a boy or a girl respectively. How did I come up with these you say? Well my creativity is well known and since Shilpa and Rohit are the names of my cousin and her husband I was able to cleverly come up with those names. While those are in the running, here is a list of some more for them to choose from. I have included in parentheses the profound reasoning that I employed to come up with this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, feel free to comment below and add to this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ivan Dmitrich (not a very typical Indian name)&lt;br /&gt;2. Monkeyna (has a typical Indian female name ending and an English beginning...I like hybrids)&lt;br /&gt;3. Tuts (not an abbreviation for an Egyptian king but rather an abbreviation for the Indian word for poop...Tatti)&lt;br /&gt;4. Hero (pretty self explanatory)&lt;br /&gt;5. Fajiti (not a female fajita but rather the Marathi word for a quandry)&lt;br /&gt;6. Modem (I'm just having problems with mine)&lt;br /&gt;7. Joe (I ate at his restaurant this afternoon)&lt;br /&gt;8. Chakri (the name of my first hard drive...I've always been selfless and I will allow this name to be taken from me)&lt;br /&gt;9. Sindri (this is what Bjork named her son...who can argue with that? Plus it's a good way to support the Icelandic economy)&lt;br /&gt;10. Abisko (where I'll be 31/1/2009-1/1/2010)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-4994522883328492806?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/4994522883328492806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=4994522883328492806&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4994522883328492806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4994522883328492806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/01/baby-names.html' title='Baby Names'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-2573702788857253845</id><published>2009-01-25T15:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T19:50:24.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;, &lt;, = (read greater than, less than, equal to...this is not an ode to Asian Smileys)</title><content type='html'>So in my continuing series of lists comes this one...Being the judgmental chap that I am, I have seen myself comparing characters, places, people and what have you against other characters, places, people and what have you. Think of it as my own mental version of Celebrity Deathmatch but not necessarily with celebrities and not involving death. Here is my list of comparisons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Fred Flintstone&gt;Tom from Tom and Jerry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a difference between being dumb and cool, and just being plain dumb. This is where Fred Flintstone beats out Tom. Tom just gets the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdNdmc83xe4"&gt;shit kicked out of him &lt;/a&gt;by a stupid little mouse whereas Fred can do cool stuff like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A20j3PEl3Hk"&gt;bowl well &lt;/a&gt;and stuff. Also, Tom is always kinda lonely. Fred has friends. And family. And dinosaurs. And he eats Bronto-burgers while Tom gets excited when he smells food that Jerry gets to before Tom can. Yeah, Tom is lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Paul Krugman&gt;Thomas Friedman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like credible sources for news articles and although both these chaps are very knowledgeable about what they write about, there's a difference. While Friedman does often bring up interesting observations, his tone is too patronizing and often doesn't give you arguments that would counter his conclusions. On the other hand, Krugman has a refreshing and admirable ability to explain how complex economic theories are applicable to events we witness every day, without sounding arrogant at all. I still read both their editorials in the New York Times, but I find myself a little more excited to look at the Times on &lt;a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/opinion/editorialsandoped/oped/columnists/paulkrugman/index.html"&gt;Mondays and Fridays &lt;/a&gt;rather than &lt;a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/opinion/editorialsandoped/oped/columnists/thomaslfriedman/index.html"&gt;Wednesdays and Sundays&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;3. Bally Sagoo&gt;DJ Aqeel&lt;bally&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;So a little background here...Bally Sagoo was one of the pioneers of remixing old Hindi/Bollywood songs (early 1990s) but hasn't done much in the better part of the last decade and DJ Aqeel is somehow related to some actors in Bollywood and is now one of the highest paid DJs in India. I have and always will believe that Bally Sagoo was wayyy ahead of his time. For some reason his music didn't receive the appreciation it deserved and is now mostly forgotten. DJ Aqeel on the other hand lacks talent in my opinion and lost every last drop of respect I had for him when I asked him to play &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qp4bfbGroA0"&gt;'Zocalo' by Armin van Buuren &lt;/a&gt;at an "Ibiza Night" at Poison in Bombay (where he used to be the resident DJ) and he said he didn't have anything by him. Err...yeah. Also, when I randomly play songs from my ipod, nobody ever gets too excited about a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9dvLOcOsSM"&gt;DJ Aqeel song &lt;/a&gt;but I've yet to find someone who doesn't think about happy times when I play a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuLAcZtxzwM"&gt;Bally Sagoo song&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;4.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture&gt;Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I know I'm going to offend a few people with this, but I'm not a big fan of Paulo Coelho. Spinning stories that are big metaphors for life are cool and everything, but while reading 'The Alchemist' I just wanted the book to end because it's pretty obvious what the underlying message is right from the beginning. I didn't really feel like I was gaining anything by reading page after page. The opposite is what I got out of Randy Pausch's 'The Last Lecture' which has easily been the best book I've read in a while. I'll also openly admit that I choked up a few times during the book, but more importantly, the real examples that he gives followed by brilliant, timeless advice makes it easy to understand why he was such a great human being. Both the books are about finding and chasing your dreams, but only one really moved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;5. Rajnikant&gt;Any actor, living/dead/past/present...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and I'm also going to be bold enough to add 'future' to that. I'm sorry but if an actor has the power to sell out theatres nationwide for THREE WEEKS on opening day, he's truly unbeatable. Now my non-brownies might say "Who is this demi-god that you speak of?" and probably haven't heard of him at all before but know this...he lights his cigarettes with guns, can start twisters with his feet and when he had to kill three guys with one bullet he shot it and then spliced it in half with a knife thereby killing the two on the side with half bullets and the guy in the middle with the knife. Chuck Norris wishes he had half the strength of Rajnikant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;6. Red velvet cake with cream cheese icing&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;red velvet cake with butter cream (or any other) type of icing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;This really doesn't need an explanation. If you're wondering why, it's probably because you haven't tasted the former. Sucks to be you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-2573702788857253845?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/2573702788857253845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=2573702788857253845&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2573702788857253845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/2573702788857253845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/01/read-greater-than-less-than-equal.html' title='&gt;, &lt;, = (read greater than, less than, equal to...this is not an ode to Asian Smileys)'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-5070082153917414671</id><published>2009-01-22T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:26:20.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unorthodox Smells that I Like</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So today as I was sitting at my computer listening to the soundtrack from Baazigar, an old Hindi movie (Yes I really was...still am actually), I realised that the milk I wanted to heat on my stove was burning and also realised, more importantly, that I liked the smell of it. So here's another list...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Burning/burnt milk&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Petroleum&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. Matches&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Mud after it has been rained on&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. Steel/Metal&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. Burning coals (before I start coughing, that is)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. Pepper (it doesn't make me cough)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. Wood&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;More additions from Facebook (prob for the last time since i now have this crazy little thing called blog)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. A Bata shoe store in India&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. Luggage packed abroad but unpacked in India (i don't know how it works, but it does)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know some of these are harmful to inhale, but why you gotta judge me like that? Hate the player not the game. I mean...the game, not the player. Yes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-5070082153917414671?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/5070082153917414671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=5070082153917414671&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5070082153917414671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/5070082153917414671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/01/unorthodox-smells-that-i-like.html' title='Unorthodox Smells that I Like'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-4754907955449272394</id><published>2009-01-22T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T18:07:54.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Food Pairs (from my Facebook note)</title><content type='html'>In no particular order...&lt;br /&gt;1. chips with salsa&lt;br /&gt;2. doritos with bean dip&lt;br /&gt;3. fried prawns with lime juice&lt;br /&gt;4. dal and rice&lt;br /&gt;5. fries with ketchup&lt;br /&gt;6. banana and nutella&lt;br /&gt;7. sharp cheese with grapes&lt;br /&gt;8. fresh bread with honey&lt;br /&gt;9. vanilla ice cream with hot chocolate sauce&lt;br /&gt;10. spicy indian food with maaza (duke's mangola if you're lucky to find any)&lt;br /&gt;11. kheema samosa with maggi hot and sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additions from comments (yes i have a few friends...at least facebook says so)&lt;br /&gt;12. booze and kathi rolls&lt;br /&gt;13. papaya with lime juice&lt;br /&gt;14. masala peanuts and beer&lt;br /&gt;15. paratha with yogurt&lt;br /&gt;16. prawn balchao with Goan bread&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-4754907955449272394?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/4754907955449272394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=4754907955449272394&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4754907955449272394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/4754907955449272394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/01/good-food-pairs-from-my-facebook-note.html' title='Good Food Pairs (from my Facebook note)'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8342524007834850479.post-1415107483350110390</id><published>2009-01-22T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:41:28.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Blogging First Time Mine</title><content type='html'>So i bit the bullet and decided to put up a bloggy blog after years of emails from fans and well-wishers who wanted to know what i was thinking about when i was making paper planes with restaurant menus or how many times i folded a length of toilet paper before i used it. OK maybe there weren't any emails and maybe nobody really wanted to know any of the above but i decided to put it down anyway. Kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be a collection of lists that i draw up, along with a sprinkling of random thoughts and whatnot. The key here is for you readers (all 3 of you) to add to the lists with additions of your own, even if it's redundant (notice how i used "add" and "additions" in the same sentence to show a clever little play to highlight redundancy). So, without further ado, here is Susu Samba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it. Share it. Like it. Love it. Hate it. Spit on it. But most importantly, add to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8342524007834850479-1415107483350110390?l=sususamba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/feeds/1415107483350110390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8342524007834850479&amp;postID=1415107483350110390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1415107483350110390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8342524007834850479/posts/default/1415107483350110390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sususamba.blogspot.com/2009/01/popping-my.html' title='In Blogging First Time Mine'/><author><name>hero #2</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15989837209427273937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iie2YIcI3Ro/SXkqv1WrqHI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZawgfPaSsho/S220/n2602631_31108049_1975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
