The Truth about Cats and Dogs was written by a woman

The sun is shining. The ducks are silent. It's a lovely afternoon. One of those afternoons that, coupled with aforementioned warm and fuzzy feelings, makes you want to cuddle up on the couch with the one thing that makes life worth living. Sigh. I miss my jaan.

I want to see Raincoat. Heard some good things about it. Haven't even looked at the BU app. This thing is going to turn around and bite me in the bum, I just know it.

In other news, I was looking over baby pictures after lunch. (Yes, we did have chicken. Palak chicken to be precise. With rotis. Which were rubbery. Oh well.) And my friend Naaz's kid Zain is the cutest baby I've seen in a while. And coming from me, that's something. Because, as everybody who knows me knows this about me, I'm not so keen on babies. Children in general actually. Kids cry when I'm around. I was once told I emit evil vibes by this indignant mother who's snot-nosed offspring started crying after I glared at it (yes, that's right, I said 'it'). In my defence, the damn thing was kicking me in the shins. I'm glad I emit evil vibes. There are two kinds of people in the world. Baby people and non-baby people. My gin-soaked, chain-smokin', cussin' and yellin' ass definitely falls in the latter category. It took me all these years to cultivate this evil vibe emission and I'm not going to give up on all my hard work. No, I'm going to nurture it and make it stronger. Maybe then children will simply sense me from afar and take a detour. Works for me.

Back to the couch. Although I wish I was in Milwaukee. That way, I could take my laptop and go sit in Rochambo's cafe and work there.

Soundtrack for lunch preparation - the Genius Loves Company album. Ray Charles rocks!