Yallelujaa

Was going to post a poem by Walt Whitman. Then, checked my mailbox and saw a miracle had happened. The mail hadn't been delivered.(Wait, wait.)And I had received a mail to tell me that.

Mail says mail can't be delivered.

Okay, so you're not finding this funny. You would if you worked in an office where the computer mouse co-existed in blissful harmony with it's stinky, furry, whiskered and very-much-breathing counterpart. (The pied piper thingy with the mice falling over the cliff? My current fantasy.)You would, too, if your computer was called the pre-pentium. You would, too. Someone at work mentioned the number of systems guys that have arrived and departed in quick succession. Names that come to mind include Afroze (urf Ofcourse urf Afsos urf Rosita), Sukumar (suku suku) and loads of others that I can't recall at the moment. More on them later, definitely.

And ya definitely, give it back to Dada. The one, the only, the prince.
Waise Dhoni se bhi kaam chala lenge. Option hai kya? (Memo to self:
Examine possibilities in armchair-critic shit as a career.)