MY PRIVATE'S DETECTIVE - Part 1

The windows were dirty. He liked the windows dirty. It helped him make sex jokes. If a pretty lady walked in he would say, " You like my dirty windows?" She wouldn't understand, but it was worth a try. Private detectives were endowed with humour the way Keira Knightely was generally endowed. Not much there. Not the way the woman walking into his office was endowed.

In a red strapless number with high heels that put the sex in sex appeal, she said, "Hmmm, your windows are dirty..."

His heart skipped a beat.

"I have a case for you to solve," she said.

"Oh I'll solve your case alright," he said, taking a suggestive step towards her.

She took a suggestive step back.

They did this little dance for awhile till they had done a full round of the room. Then after realising they weren't getting anywhere with this they got down to business.

"You know Lois?" she asked.

"Lois and me go way back. "

"How far back?"

"Real far back. When Nsync were all straight. That far back."

"Good so you know Lois," she said, wasting time, money, and electricity.

"In fact," he said, giving his i'm-about-to-make-a-sex-joke-sneer, "I've been down Lois' lane, if you know what I mean."

"Lois is a guy," she said.

He would sneer no more.

She could turn him on and off like that small red button on one of those cheap Chinese toys.

And he LIKED it.

"Lets get back on the case," she said.

"I'd like to get on yo...Oh. I already said that," he stuttered. She liked him like this. On his knees, metaphorically, that is.

"Anyway Lois stole something from me."

"And what exactly did Lois steal?," he asked picturing a mud wrestling match between these two girls, before realising Lois was a guy.

"She stole a pair of antique pantyhose, worn by Queen Something the five hundredth and Something. In the Invasion of No-Undy. It was a commando mission"

"Aah," he concluded, pretending to understand, but picturing something completely different.

"I need you to find it and place it back in the Underwear and Banyaan Hall of Fame," she cried, desperate for his help.

AND SO BEGAN...

"MY PRIVATE'S DETECTIVE"

ALL PUNS INTENDED

BLOODY STEREOTYPES MEN

It sucks being a stereotype. It really does. And in India every community has its own stereotype.

The Marvadis say EmmCee Donald; Tamilians live solely on a diet of sambhar and idli; people from the North-East eat dogs; the roads in UP and Bihar are red in colour (from all the paan); all Parsis are at least half-crack; you could find more oil on a Mallu's head than in Saudi Arabia.

The list is endless. I could go on. And I will.

The Anglo-Indians think they are direct descendants of King Edward the who cares; Bengalis have eaten all the fish in the Hooghly; Bengalis all know either one form of classical music or dance or do something intellectual; Punjabi=lassi; all Biharis cars are painted yellow and black and are called "rickshaws"in Mumbai.

But possibly the worst community to be affected by stereotypia (© The Incredible Sulk) are the Goans. You shake your head in disbelief and you scream "WTF!" but the mental image you are forming in your head is one of a short unshaved man, in shorts with one of the those "palm tree" t-shirts, and a bottle of alcoholic nature, the consumption of which would lead him to lie down on a beach and go off to sleep. And to you I say, tsk-tsk (no, ignorant fool, it is not a fly that gives you sleeping sickness; that's tse-tse! This is a me shaking my head in disbelief at you woeful ignorance)

The Goans have for many decades been the victim of stereotypia (© The Incredible Sulk). It is now time for me to dispel those myths and come to the aid of those alcoho-I mean Goans.

Firstly, don't associate Goans with beer and rum. This is wrong. You associate them with cashew feni! Any Goan worth his alcoholic content, drinks cashew feni. Now I don't mean that Goans only drink cashew feni. But in the words of the Wise Goan, "A Goan who doesn't drink cashew feni is like a gentle breeze without a face to breeze upon. Like a fart that goes unheard and unsmel-". We're going to stop the Wise Goan right there for I think you get the big picture.

Another common myth is a Goan's favourite food. When you think Goan, you think pork vindaloo (so named because after a good plateful, the only place you're headed next is a bathroom; vindaloo originated from ancient Portuguese word indaloo which meant "to relieve oneself"). A Goan's favourite food is sorpatel. The very mention of the name is enough to send Goans into a feeding frenzy that would put piranhas to shame. Those little heavenly pieces of piggy soaked in a red spicy-sweet gravy that (if by now you're mouth isn't watering, your taste buds have been shot to hell, or you're one of those vegetarian thingies) that heavenly pieces of piggy soak in. The Wise Goan, whose front is now messed up by him slobbering over a plate of sorpatel, says with his mouth full, "Mmf jdsh reybsh dssdks." We understand oh Wise one. We understand.

Those of you who don't understand, well....get yourself a plate of sorpatel and you will.

Also it is entirely untrue that Goans don't "suit up," and roam around Goa in a sad imitation of California-surfer-boy-bermudas. As is the myth that we wear shirts that have palm trees and the setting sun on them. It's usually the rising sun. And seeing as half of Goa is involved in the hospitality industry and the other half work on cruise ships, this is a silly assumption.

You reel under the weight of these revelations, and you catch at things nearby to steady yourself, which is why The Incredible Sulk (who loves talking about himself in the third person) shall spare you any more stunning myth-busting awesomeness for now. To all those of you afflicted with stereotypia (© The Incredible Sulk), be very wary. The time has arrived for stereotypes to burst out of their shells. For the stereotyped to cast away their burden, and other dramatic stuff like that.

I leave you with words from the Wise Goan," Nothing like anything. Impossible is nothing."

While this might not make much sense now, it will when the Wise Goan signs a multi-million dollar deal to endorse a new entrant in the mobile phone market and a another multi-million dollar deal with a sportswear manufacturer.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER AT BOTTOM OF PAGE

The Incredible Sulk is an extremely secular person and loves fluffy kittens and walks on the beach and the above stereotypes were provided for humour and not to offend any communities' sensibilities. So don't kill me or anything.

MY MISTAKES YOU SHOULD LEARN FROM

# 4: PIRANHA 3D!