There is a lot of pressure, this weekend, and it’s not just from my middle-aged bladder. Oh God, why did I bring that up? Now, I want to relieve myself, which would not be fair to you, dear reader. Keeping you waiting mid-sentence, whilst I attend to something ridiculously basic, and yet, clearly one of life’s truly underrated pleasures. Okay, let’s get this article out of the toilet that it has plunged into and start all over again. On your marks, get set... go!
I’m feeling a lot of pressure, and its all due to two cataclysmic events. (Keep in mind the writer, namely me, has no idea what the word cataclysmic even means in the first place. He’s just, and by he, I mean me, sticking to a vow he made to his IV-standard teacher that he would use at least two four-syllable words in every composition that he would ever write, or plagiarise). Specifically, there are two dates — the 19th and 20th of this month — that are causing this turbulence, (if you pronounce ‘turbulence’ slowly it sounds like a four-syllable word, by the way). Your question to me is: “What issue do I have with these dates? My answer to you is, “Please, don’t be so impatient, obviously I’ll come to that point otherwise why would I ever have mentioned these dates”?
On May 19 is the birthday celebration of a person, who, seen from his own eyes, is a very close friend. However, seen from my eyes, is more like that distant relative who is always, and unnecessarily, in your house. I don’t think its right to name Kunal Vijayakar by name so let’s call him Andy. At another time in our lives, I would have celebrated his (Andy’s not Kunal Vijayakar’s), birthday, happily. Truth be told, in the past I often did. And by often, I mean just once a year, throughout the 90’s.
