The standard of this blog is clearly increasing. Don't worry, I haven't descended to the level of actually talking about poop YET. I'm not saying I won't if I become truly desperate but this ones not about poop in the sense that we usually take it. Did you know that the most superior quality of pasteurized milk in Kerala, a company worth crores of rupees, that brings nourishment to thousands of Malayalee homes, is called poop? The name of the product is actually poop.
Scene: a normal Keralite family. Time: Breakfast.
"Honey, have you had your poop yet?"
"Sweety, can you pass that glass of poop?"
"Don't forget to take your poop! It's good for you!"
Hey y'all how's it going? I'm still in Kerala and I am having such a good time. I mentioned in the last post that I've lately been on a lot of kitchen duty. Well today, I was in front of house and let me tell you, its not half as fun as it looks on Master Chef. My hands used to be soft and pink and I used to be able to actually touch things without feeling like somebody was routinely stabbing needles into my fingers just for the heck of it. Now they are covered in blisters (using those freaking shovels), burns (from the industrial toaster. I am literally from the stone age) and cuts (thanks, Susie. She's my cousin and today she was a bit bored so she took off half my finger with a meat carver). Who says Kerala can't be entertaining?
Speaking of food, did you know that a chakka in Kerala means a jackfruit? I find this pretty hilarious because a chakka, in Bangalore, means something completely different and its incredibly hard to keep a straight face when mallus bring it up in conversation. I was in the car with my cousin and we were driving along when we saw some chakkas right, (the Kerala kind. The kind its okay to want to eat) and my cousin REFUSES TO STOP TALKING ABOUT THEM. I'm trying so hard not to laugh at anything she says especially because my grandparents are like fifteen centimetres away from me. It was hard.
"Hey Joe, look at that chakka! Dude, that is so big. Look, its so juicy (*lip smacking noise*). I just want to take that home and eat it." Must. Not. ROFL.
It is so freaking hot in Alwaye. Its a pretty good idea to build a church center over here because if hell is anything as hot as this I do not want to go there.
Why this Kerala experience is especially interesting for me is because I am spending an entire two weeks away from my Mom. How lame does that sound? HEY, before you judge, I know fifty year olds who still live with their parents. I'm fifteen! Its absolutely brilliant because:-
a) I don't have to eat vegetables unless I want to. Freaking hell! You know what the really weird part is? Even though I don't have to, I voluntarily do it now. I'm growing up y'all,
b) Nobody asks me really loudly in public if I went or not before I left the house.
c) Nobody checks if I'm wearing underwear. I don't have to wear it unless I feel like! (Which of course I do. Sort of. Why am I posting this online again?)
d) I can wear any inappropriate thing I want, provided I run past my grandmom really fast. She thinks I'm mentally imbalanced by the way.
Okay, I'm just going to finish this post really fast because I started writing this an unbelievable two hours ago. The current goes every 5.6 minutes. Kerala is like God's practical joke on mankind, he puts a bunch of people in the hottest place on the planet and then he gives them power cuts. Forgive me if this post isn't that good, it was written under a lot of pressure.
Byee! I'll try to put up pictures soon. Mwaah!
LOOK A FOLLOW BUTTON!!!
Scene: a normal Keralite family. Time: Breakfast.
"Honey, have you had your poop yet?"
"Sweety, can you pass that glass of poop?"
"Don't forget to take your poop! It's good for you!"
Hey y'all how's it going? I'm still in Kerala and I am having such a good time. I mentioned in the last post that I've lately been on a lot of kitchen duty. Well today, I was in front of house and let me tell you, its not half as fun as it looks on Master Chef. My hands used to be soft and pink and I used to be able to actually touch things without feeling like somebody was routinely stabbing needles into my fingers just for the heck of it. Now they are covered in blisters (using those freaking shovels), burns (from the industrial toaster. I am literally from the stone age) and cuts (thanks, Susie. She's my cousin and today she was a bit bored so she took off half my finger with a meat carver). Who says Kerala can't be entertaining?
Speaking of food, did you know that a chakka in Kerala means a jackfruit? I find this pretty hilarious because a chakka, in Bangalore, means something completely different and its incredibly hard to keep a straight face when mallus bring it up in conversation. I was in the car with my cousin and we were driving along when we saw some chakkas right, (the Kerala kind. The kind its okay to want to eat) and my cousin REFUSES TO STOP TALKING ABOUT THEM. I'm trying so hard not to laugh at anything she says especially because my grandparents are like fifteen centimetres away from me. It was hard.
"Hey Joe, look at that chakka! Dude, that is so big. Look, its so juicy (*lip smacking noise*). I just want to take that home and eat it." Must. Not. ROFL.
It is so freaking hot in Alwaye. Its a pretty good idea to build a church center over here because if hell is anything as hot as this I do not want to go there.
Why this Kerala experience is especially interesting for me is because I am spending an entire two weeks away from my Mom. How lame does that sound? HEY, before you judge, I know fifty year olds who still live with their parents. I'm fifteen! Its absolutely brilliant because:-
a) I don't have to eat vegetables unless I want to. Freaking hell! You know what the really weird part is? Even though I don't have to, I voluntarily do it now. I'm growing up y'all,
b) Nobody asks me really loudly in public if I went or not before I left the house.
c) Nobody checks if I'm wearing underwear. I don't have to wear it unless I feel like! (Which of course I do. Sort of. Why am I posting this online again?)
d) I can wear any inappropriate thing I want, provided I run past my grandmom really fast. She thinks I'm mentally imbalanced by the way.
Okay, I'm just going to finish this post really fast because I started writing this an unbelievable two hours ago. The current goes every 5.6 minutes. Kerala is like God's practical joke on mankind, he puts a bunch of people in the hottest place on the planet and then he gives them power cuts. Forgive me if this post isn't that good, it was written under a lot of pressure.
Byee! I'll try to put up pictures soon. Mwaah!
LOOK A FOLLOW BUTTON!!!
3 comments:
you need to get your apostrophe right
one's
it's
brilliant post rofl
Chakkas are good for health. Tell it to the Mallus and the Bangaloreans. (Lip smacking sound!!) :)
Post a Comment