What Women Want

When in a relationship, there are certain expectations from both parties. It's like skin and a Pussycat Doll's video - it just comes with the territory. We can pretend that there isn't ("no, I like them because of their music and their dance moves") but let's face it, there always is. One of the expectations for the male individual in the relationship is to shower, nay, bombard the female counterpart with compliments.


I'm not quite sure how it works for gays - but let's not go there.


We try to ignore it and make do without it. Men are simple creatures, and we generally say what's on our mind because we don't have the brain power to process it and analyse it like the women do. So instead of forcing a compliment, we try to be 'honest' and only say nice things when we actually feel it. Then we get dumped.


So after a few painful lessons, we eventually learn. Compliments. That's the way to go. So we turn up all fresh and clean for our dinner date, pick her up, smile and say as sincerely as we possibly can - "You look fabulous tonight".


She turns, looks at you, and in your mind's eye you can see all sorts of very 'nice' things happening for the rest of the evening. Why didn't you think of this earlier?!


But instead, she says "Really? Oh no I don't. I just threw this together. It's actually my friend's top. And it makes me look skinny. I don't like it."


Huh?


"Err, but it still looks very nice you know"


"Oh you should see the top she borrowed from me! That's so sexy! I can't believe she hasn't returned it! She's such a bitch!"


"Err. Yes. Err. Hmmm."


Women want compliments. They LOVE compliments. They NEED compliments. So why can't they take one when we give them?!


I remember when I first starting dating my ex. She was a looker, I'll tell you that much, and I would always tell her that. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never get one to stick. The words "Thank you" were apparently not in her vocabulary, instead there were a dozen reasons why she WASN'T beautiful and why she DIDN'T have nice hair etc etc.


The next time I heard another excuse about why her nose was just a bit too big I gave it to her straight - "I think the words you're looking for are 'Thank you' ". She stopped and stared at me, and for a second I thought I was a dead man. Then she laughed. I had won.


This phenomena isn't just restricted to relationships however. Women struggle to accept compliments in general. Try telling a friend she looks nice and she'll either think you're hitting on her or she'll think you're making fun of her.


Or is it just me? Maybe women do accept compliments if it comes from the right guy. If nerdy-goody-two-shoes-still-living-in-the-80's-and-thinks-Michael-Jackson-is-cool dude tells a girl she looks hot, she'd probably faint and die from the shame. If the stud from the office swings by all uber-cool like and says "Babe, you look AWESOME today!", winks and swings away, she'd probably speed dial everyone of her gal pals and shriek the good news, (if only to make them jealous).


Bottom line: to all the men - keep throwing them compliments out there. If you're better looking and 'cooler' than me, perhaps you'll get some to stick.


To all the women - give me a break.


Thank you.

The Dark One Is Dead (Not)

Greeting from the Darkside.

It has been an interesting week for me, and there is so much I want to blog about, but it's been hard to find time to come online for long enough to blog about it.

Let's just say that there will probably be an avalanche of posts as soon as I get back home.

But I definitely don't want to go home. I've been more active in the last two weeks than I have in the last 6 months at home. How much do I suck?

Anyways, this is just a short note to say I'm doing well, and that I hope all my readers are doing well too.

Peace.

G

Tagged!

Apparently I have been tagged. Well, I didn't know this until I read DeeCee's and the Whackster's blogs. Aren't you supposed to leave a comment on their site if you tag someone?

Fools. But I forgive you, it gives me something to blog about without having to think much.

Alright here goes.

Have I ever.......?

• been hit on by a guy?
• contemplated growing my hair until I realised that it was totally Bollywood to do so and nothing on earth would induce me to become Bollywood?
• been in a car accident? Twice?
• sung in front of an open air audience of 4000 people - dressed as a shepherd?!
• missed a flight - twice?! In the same day?!
• walked a girl home in the rain after dinner and not been accused of being too corny?
• wanted to be somebody else? Someone taller perhaps?
• stolen cash from the parents? (It was an emergency!)
• stolen cash from the brother? (That was just for fun)
• gotten into a fist fight with a guy that was made out of stone?
• accidentally bump into dad's antique Hillman car with the van and still get away with it?
• fallen for a girl at first sight?
• been beaten up so bad on the court that I was seeing double for the entire 4th quarter? (Doesn't do your aim any benefits, I'll tell you that much)
• thought about dropping out of college and changing my entire career path? (I was thinking Radio Jockey.. hmm..)

I know, rather lame but that's all I can come up with as of now.

On a completely unrelated note, apparently this blog has been classified as gender neutral, and the sex of the author is probably male (by an overwhelming 51% too).

Click here to see what I'm talking about. As expected, technology has let us down. Because the 'dark one' is all man, baby. All man.

Check Check Check!

First of all, let me just say, the Darkside has reached India safely.

Secondly, what the hell?!

I've blogged about airport and other security before, but this just struck me as weird and I had to put it out there.

We know that air travel has become the most security filled exercise in the average person's life. The fact that you have to be there 3 hours before you have to fly is testament to that fact. Let's be honest, very few airports in the South East Asian subcontinent can boast of an airport that requires a 3 hour trek to get from one end to another. No, the time for check in is because of all the security checking, bag checking, ID checking, passport checking, visa checking, belt checking, drug checking, gender testing procedures that need to be done before allowing someone to get onto a plane.

But honestly, thanks to Osama's boys, I totally understand the paranoia. So I'm not going to complain so much about all the security and "oh-this-is-liquid-we-can't-allow-it-in-case-it-self-ignites-and-explodes" bull.

What I don't understand is, after putting us through all this nonsense, why do we have to be checked again after we land?!

Here I am, landing in the rather funky new Bangalore airport. Oh, I'm sorry, it's Bengaluru or something now - Bangalore was too colonial (talk about insecurity). Just when I think that they've outdone even our prized Colombo airport, I find a big line for the x-ray. Are you kidding me?? I need to be checked before I get OFF the plane as well?? Let's get this straight - in the minds of the Indian aiport officials, the terror suspects (me) are so devious and smart that they have somehow evaded all the security measures in the Colombo airport, snuck their lethal weapons (mp3 player) onto the plane, and then in yet another move of utter brilliance, decided to NOT blow the plane up/take plane hostage/set random people on fire, but rather sneak the device (mp3 player) OFF the plane as well!

And so, they set up the x-ray machine again. To catch me. If I was that dumb, then I should be arrested.

This reminds me off the time we went to Sweden. We went through the usual channels of security, and just before boarding the flight, we were confronted with a big white man. After a few seconds I noticed there was a little black man standing next to him, but he was almost invisible - such was the enormity (and whiteness) of his companion.

Just when I thought they were going to wish us a pleasant flight, they ask for my passport. Again?! Haven't we already done this?? But no, they were insistent. So we give our passports, and the little black man opens it to the visa page, and takes out a little magnifying glass and inspects the seal around our visa. After a few minutes scrutiny, he shows it to the abominable snowman, who grunts and allows us to pass.

Again, I am amazed. Instead of checking our visas at the emigration counter, they wait for us to get through all the other formalities, buy our duty free presents, remove our shoes and belts and nipple rings, and only THEN do they decide to check if our visa is legitimate or forged.


Someone explain this to me. Please. Anybody?


Next time I'm just taking the ferry.

Home

Wish I were with you, I couldn't stay

Every direction leads me away

Pray for tomorrow, but for today

All I want is to be home

...

People I've loved, I have no regrets

Some I remember, some I forget

Some of them living, some of them dead

All I want is to be home

...

In my short stint as a blog writer, I've rarely come across a mental block as bad as what I've been going through now. I've typed and deleted 4 draft posts in the last 24 hours alone! It's not really a case of not having anything to say, it's more like not knowing how to say it.

As usual when I'm confronted with this, I turn to music. And, more often than not, either the Foo Fighters or Incubus come to my rescue. In this case it's Dave Grohl's boys and their track "Home" from the latest album "Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace" (love that album name for some reason).

It's been said that home is where the heart is. Somehow that doesn't really help much, especially in my situation, because I don't really know where my heart is. The last 6 months or so have been interesting to say the least. I'm not the type of person to open out to just anyone, and so I have kept most of my personal musings to myself instead of exposing them on this blog.

This is a bit different though. In a few days I will be heading back to India, back to my college campus. I need to get some paper work done with regards to my degree, and if you know how things work in the Indian subcontinent, you'll know that the saying "If you want something done right you got to do it yourself" is not just apt, it's something of a motto for life. However, I'm not complaining. To me it's a golden oppurtunity to get in touch with some old friends and, most important, I get to finally spend time with real people instead of in front of my computer screen! (I know, how sad do I sound huh?)

Despite living at home the last 6 months, I've always felt something was wrong. Make no mistake, I love my mad family. I don't agree with them on everything, we have our fights and little hang ups, but hey that's what family is (or so I'm told). Despite how much I enjoyed the home cooked food and the freedom to flop in front of the TV whenever I feel like, the price I had to pay was that of being cut off from real people. I didn't have that many friends in school, and the few I did have are all out of the country, leaving the 'dark one' pretty much alone in Kandy. Of all places.

So my life has consisted mainly of jogging, gyming, listening to music and blogging. Sure the odd interview here, the odd trip to Colombo there, but all in all it hasn't been the most productive period in my life. The fact that i have still managed to spew out some 30 posts in this time is a testament to my ability to talk utter nonsense irrespective of the surroundings.

I have been looking forward to this trip for a while now. I know that this will probably be the last time I see them for a long time. In that respect, three weeks seems much too short a stay, but that is out of my hands. If anything, I've learnt over the last few months that when you get the oppurtunity to be happy, that you should hold onto it and appreciate it as much as you can, while you can - and that is exactly what I plan on doing.

Bottom line: Despite being at home for 6 months, I feel like I'm only going 'home' now. These people were almost like family to me during my stay in college. I have a fantastic array of anecdotes to tell involving them, and most importantly, they respect me for who I am. It's not often that people can boast of friends like that, and I realise how blessed I am.

Of course, there may be a beautiful girl with a gorgeous smile waiting for me there too. But I digress...

So Darkside Daily will be on hold for a few weeks. It seems to be terrible timing with regards to the blog, because my hit counter has been telling my very nice things regarding the increasing average hits per day. Still, I may get a chance to blog from there, so keep your 'darkside glasses' on.

Peace, take care, stay safe and remember to spread the darkness.

G

I Don't Speak Internet-ish

After years of text messaging, missed calling, emailing, forwarding, chatting, nudging, buzzing and smiley kissing (and that's all you'll hear about THAT), I have come to the painfully obvious conclusion that I am terrible at all of them. Well, perhaps terrible is not the right word. I'm not like one of those old ladies you see in church who, on hearing a cell phone ring during the service, stare accusingly at everyone around them for a good ten minutes before realising that the ringing is coming from their own handbag.

However, this age of digital communication annoys me. I love it, and I hate it. Being able to talk to someone halfway across the world is a great thing. Reading a text message filled with Dan Brown style code from your friend in the next room is not so great. Yet I am no technological dinosaur, I am quite adept at all the above mentioned arts. I've even developed the uncanny ability to type in the dark; this being the result of many clandestine late night online rendezvous.

But I stumbled onto a problem. Let's be honest, even though we have taken text messaging, emoticons and smileys to dizzying heights over the last 5 to 10 years, not every emotion can be represented by a key stroke. For example, there is no way to really effectively convey sarcasm through text conversations.

And sarcasm is my bread and butter!

Many times my friends have been offended by something I've typed, mainly because the only way to show them I'm being sarcastic is to actually type out "I'm being sarcastic", and let's face it - that pretty much defeats the purpose of being sarcastic.

Another problem with text conversations - we never speak the way we type. Have you ever noticed that having an online conversation with someone can 'sound' completely different from a real conversation with the person? I once was introduced to a friend but only got to spend a little time with her. However, I added her on Yahoo and we started to talk. Lo and behold, the rather mature and intelligent girl that I had met just a few weeks before had disappeared behind a stream of LOL's and hahahahahaha's and ROFL's! All I had to say was "Oh hello there!" and she would burst out in laughter and grins! Seriously, I'm not THAT funny!

In a world where Internet love is now considered to be possible and marriage proposals are made via web cam, I find myself becoming an increasingly outnumbered sceptic of it all. I for one only type "hahaha" when I'm actually laughing (or at least chuckling!). I send a grin across only when I'm actually grinning. This too has got me in endless trouble, because whenever my girlfriend starts complaining about something, I end up sending back a ':)' which is what I would do in real life, except of course it would be an 'understanding smile'. She however assumes that I find her problems funny and I am suddenly labelled insensitive. What am I supposed to do, type out "I am smiling write now with understanding at your predicament, and I am also slowly nodding my head whenever you finish typing a line to signal my agreement with your statements".

But this is my personal favourite. When someone is telling you a story, or complaining about something, you listen. I'm a good listener, if I do say so myself. I wait till they've completely vented, and I make sure that I don't interrupt and ruin their flow. Try doing that online though. After a few lines I suddenly get a "hello? are you there?!". Of course I'm here, where else would I be?? Then they continue, but they've lost their flow of thought, and now they're conscious that maybe they're boring me. Again, what do I do? Is it my fault that my well mannered silence is mistaken for a faulty Internet connection?! Ah I know - [this smiley indicates that I am listening to you with great attentiveness, while simultaneously holding your hand and saying "There, there.."].

Yes, I know there are web cams and voice chats etc, but in this day and age, asking a girl if she can switch on her web cam is the equivalent of asking her to perform a private strip show for you. I guess I'm just going to have to make some new short forms and smileys of my own.

:-y = snide sarcastic smile

\:-I = the "you are a dumbass" look

8-D = I'm looking at you, but I'm actually staring at your breasts

BE = [brain explodes]

KMN = [kill me now]

hAhAhA = [fake laughter]

I really miss you = [time to turn your web cam on]

Here's hoping these will catch on. In the meantime, I guess I'll just have to suffer.

The Darkside Defending The Dudes

In my last post, I wrote about a few casual observations I had made about the blogosphere with regards to the use of the words 'rant', 'rave', 'rambling' and 'random'. One word I had forgotten to include in this list was the word 'conundrum'. The Oxford English dictionary defines the word as 'a confusing and difficult problem or question, or riddle'. And surely there is no bigger riddle in the blogosphere than the opposite sex. And God, of course. But I'll leave that topic for more skilled writers than me.

It is common knowledge that no one understands the opposite sex. Men can't understand women, women can't understand men. Or women, for that matter. See, I'm confused already.

So when a friend wrote a post about us men (great blog by the way, check it out here) I was expecting the usual nonsense about respecting them and listening to them and showing our 'feelings' etc. Well, that was there, plus some other juicy tit bits that was just begging me to write a reply to. So here goes, a point by point dissection, courtesy of the Darkside.

1. We always know when you scratch your balls, even when you are just thinking about it. Women are very intuitive that way.

This was a real shocker. All these years I had been surreptiously scratching my nads, safe in the knowledge that the women were completely ignorant of my stealth activities. "Ha!", I would think, "She thinks I'm looking for my keys, but oh.. that.. feels.. gooood..."

Err, no. If this is what women call being intuitive, then we're really screwed. All I can say is that naal, you have been hanging around the wrong men. Or maybe it's your men that have too much, err, hanging. Either way, this is just bizarre.

2. We always know when you are looking at us or analysing our fat bottoms (or the lack of it). Again, an example of our intuitiveness.

Since when did the 'bottom' area become a no fly zone? Better that we're analysing your fat bottom (or the lack of it) than the random chick that crosses our path (and believe me, she's got one), right ? You know you check our butts out too, so let's all just get along.

3. We don't always think about sex; you do (studies have proven it to be so). So, the next time we hold your arm or kiss you; that's it, that's all we want. Nothing more. Unless, we take it further.

Hmm? Oh sorry, I was thinking about.. err.. my homework.

What's that? You feel that I don't find you attractive because I haven't made a move on you, thus making you doubt yourself and question my feelings for you? But honey, I've been waiting for YOU to take it further! Isn't that what you want? What's that? You want a man with some balls? Hey I have balls okay!! I've been scratching them all night...

4. You don't always need to hold you stomach in or flex your arms when you see us. Its okay if you have a few imperfections. We like it that way.

Sure you do. The more imperfections the better, right? My beer belly and unusually dense body hair is of no consequence, because you look at the 'inner man' and not - honey? I'm over here. Yes, that's Michael Phelps. Yes, he DOES seem to have an eight-pack. Fancy that. Honey, please don't drool, we're in public...

We want to be attractive, we want you to think we're hot. Now THAT'S a problem too. Go date Homer Simpson then.

5. WE DON'T LIKE THE SMELL OF STALE SWEAT!! Buy a deodorant, will you!! And while you are buying one, have a shower too!

So, as long as it's fresh sweat, is that alright?

6. When we talk about our problems, we usually don't want you to give us suggestions on how to solve it. We just want you to hear us out. We are perfectly capable of solving our problems ourselves (unless asked otherwise).

Hello, we're men. We like to fix things, it's in our nature. Forgive us for trying to give you a perspective on your problems that isn't your own or from some dumbass women's magazine. You want to talk to something that doesn't speak back? Leave a voice message. Or better yet, go talk to my grandma. She's dead.

7. When we decorate the house with fluffy pillows and such, its not cause we are trying to feminise you. We have been surrounded by such stuff since we were born. We just like it that way

When we brazenly set fire to your fluffy pillows and such, it's not cause we feel threatened by your femininity. We have been brainwashed to loathe and despise such 'stuff' since we were born. We're just crazy that way.

8. Sometimes, we just like to hold hands.

Sometimes, we just want to hold the remote.

9. We do like to be treated like little princesses (well.. sometimes). At other times we want to be treated like equally competent adults. You better take those mind reading classes now!!

We did. Then we quit and went for Jessica Simpson's new movie. Totally more worth it.

10. We eat smaller portions than you (at least in public) and we don't appreciate it if you comment on that. If we wanted to hog, we would have gotten our (equally hog-like) best friends along and not you.

We're not asking you to hog, we're asking you to have a healthy meal with us. Do you really think we're trying to fatten you up?! Do you think we're demented?? We're paying for it anyway, so you might as well enjoy yourself.

11. We like men who can hold their drinks and not men who start grabbing and groping after a few sips of lager

We like women who can hold their men and not start griping for drinks after a few seconds of Tiesto.

12. Cant you, for once, see a girly movie?? I mean, does it always have to be the latest Arnold, Sylvester, Bruce Willis?? We like those movies too. But can't you come with us for a good 'ole romantic comedy and hold us and pat our shoulders while we bawl our hearts out?

No.

13. Don't test our knowledge (latest Sly movie, exact distance between earth and mars and so on)and laugh/shake head/grin smugly/sigh if we cant answer the question. Do you know which is the next Meg Ryan movie?? No??? Then??

The reason we ask you about the latest Sly movie is because there IS no latest Sly movie. It's an easy-out question, just so that you can feel like we have a 'connection'. If you don't even know THAT, you are a dumbass. And if we cared about Meg Ryan movies, we would be dumbasses. Comprende?

Dumbass.

14. Tip the bloody waiter!! The last thing we need to know is how effing miserly you are.

I just paid for dinner! And forgive me for not wanting to tip a waiter that's been staring at your fat ass the whole time. I tip for good service, not for him imagining what kind of 'service' he can get.

15. Let us pay half of the bill. Please, it would be our pleasure and I am sure it wouldn't hurt....right???

So if i don't tip, I'm miserly. But if I don't pay for your meal, it would bring you pleasure.

Excuse me while I go back to scratching my balls.

16. We love cooking, as long as you clean up afterwards.

We love eating, as long as you can cook.

17. Respect our parents. For that matter, respect your own while you are at it.

I got nothing.

18. If you let us keep our personal space, we will let you keep yours.

Which is why you're filling my place with stuffed animals and little pink fluffy pillows. You don't see us trying to put up our swimsuit calendar in your room do you?!

Though that's probably because nothing on this planet would induce us to part with it...

19. Whoever said the world was round was stark raving mad!! The world is flat, like a table and if you go too far away from us, you will fall off from the earth and float endlessly in space.

Errm, oookaay. Excuse me, I need to go do this, err, thing. Yeah, family thingy. No, no, you stay here. No, I INSIST! Oh sure, I'll definitely call you! Totally! (Psycho.....!)

20. And finally, a lady never rants or raves. She speaks her mind!!

[Speechless with disbelief]

You know that list of blogs I wrote about that all had the words 'rant' and 'rave' in the title? ALL WOMEN!

[Speechless again]

[Brain explodes]

I guess some riddles are best left unsolved. Cheers!

(Naal: yes, it really was a good post, but I had to put my spin on it! Welcome to the Darkside!)

Rambling Rants, Raves and Reasons To Not Get Married

Good morning all! It's Monday - the day when all things in life return to routine and when all happy feelings of the weekend fade into oblivion faster than a Jessica Simpson single. After my usual cursory glance through the blogosphere, I make two completely unsurprising discoveries.

1. There are the usual rants, raves and ramblings regarding men, marriage and massages. Well, alright, massages I just threw in to make it rhyme.

2. The words 'rant', 'rave', 'random' and 'rambling' are the most common words in the Sri Lankan blogosphere. There are so many different combinations of these words in people's blog names, followed by some derivative of 'lunatic', 'nutter', 'hatter' or the such, that I start to wonder if I somehow didn't get a memo or something.

To rectify the second point, I have decided to rename this blog as - THE RANDOM DAILY DARKSIDE RAMBLINGS OF A RANTING RAVING RETARD!

Okay maybe not.

As for the first point, well, since we're all worried about marriage and finding our soul mates and meeting our prince and/or princess (depending on your preference - no judgement here!) I feel it necessary to share this little note I came across which may come in handy, especially if someone you know is heading down the dreaded road of martydom. Err, I mean, marriage, sorry.

Enjoy!

(Courtesy Barney Stinson's blog - save the note on your comp if it isn't clear enough to read)