dinner is when my temper is the shortest and the kids are at the whiniest. and that’s how i created this superhero.
His name: Meesai Murali
His claim to fame: His moustache (and as he twirls his powers sorta increase) and when they don’t increase. he has plan B: he rushes to Kumbakonam to drink degree kaapi ( and with every noisy slurp from the tumbler his powers grow )
His mode of transport: auto
What I liked about creating a homespun version is that the traditional/ disney superheros are ROYALLY thrashed : Meesai Murali can be more daft than Mr. Bean,;
he chips in when Spiderman runs out webs (once the three people had a race: a spider, spiderman and Meesai Murali and guess who finished first? it was the spider. Meesai Murali came second because his auto is rather fast, spiderman owing to web-shortage had to sit behind in Meesai Murali’s auto in the race and he finished third)
he cleaned the Lightning Mcqueen car (which was dirty because of baby vomit, baby poop, ompodi, peanut shells, raisins, and tissue paper). for cleaning cars he uses the rag which he only uses for shining his auto.
like the homemade butter, the homemade superhero is working v. well. the kids are in splits:-)
- …a friend permanently removed a ghastly shell-chandelier from her hall that has been an eyesore, bothering me for over 3 years and seven hours. ah. sweet relief.
- … i see a pun. I love Malaysia. But these chaps arent passionately into wordplay gimmicks: even in newspapers: I am not poked by clever ads and cleverer headlines.
When I saw a shop with this “if your clock doesnt tick… tock to us.” I cried with happiness.
- The Malaysian PM, 58 years old, has a sense of fun. I just saw what he’s been upto last week: He attended a young-gen concert. He took pictures to post on twitter.
He participated in a popular radio talk show “gotcha” and asked for a job for his son as a DJ.
He’s going cycling in Penang to raise money for charity. He may have had 217378 followers on twitter. But you know what, today that increased to 217379 followers.
and i fall in lou.
cow’s milk. non-pasteurised. in a plastic cover. shakily sealed with a rubber band. and delivered daily.
I love it because i now collect fresh cream and turn it into butter..
and home-made butter appeals to my
inner outer chaotic clumsy self. there’s so much mess. from the churning, from the spills, from the greasiness. oooh. and there’s delicious smelling ghee to show for it.
falls into the dud movies that i shouldnt comment on since i really didnt watch the whole movie, but i want to comment in any case.
the one i saw about 18 minutes worth off… . the movie’s rightful name should be booby considering the cleavage .
dimple kapadia wears horrendous wigs… one of it looked ditto like my kitchen barthan, which i make aloo fry in.
i know it was 1973. but still.
should i re-title the header as
the very strange ways of firstborn
the very very strange ways of firstborn
seven children get off the van. he is the only one getting out of his school van with his eyes tightly shut.
“ma. i am waiting to bang into something before i open my eyes,” he says.
and promptly walks into the door.
and then opens his eyes and grins.
….know that the mmmim has an inner Reggie .
but today. i fear there may be no inner mmmim.
the mmmim to me: “accept it. i sing this song better than her.”
(PS: the statutory bedtime song for 6 years now)
postpone worldwar III
and turn into brothers