Awakening the Giant

As if you mere mortals actually had something better to do, I still feel the need to apologize for my recent hiatus. As you very well may know, a certain set of people are starting to be a real thorn in my smooth, botoxed behind. I know I left you starved for more insight, knowledge, and divine wisdom; yet, for some strange reason, others seem to have gotten a bit offended by my naked truths, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to try and bust FAB’s balls. Well let me tell you all something: you are dealing with perhaps the densest, hardest pair of brass ones you’ll ever come across. I have not spent the last 97 years of my life without struggle, hardships, and the occasional wet fart in my diapers. In other words, I’m a survivor.
I have to go get my eyebrows done now, so that the arches maintain their intellectual effervescence. But before the threading session begins, let me say one thing: FAB is here to stay.

Back tomorrow, and it’s going to be a real doozie. You don’t want to miss it. Until then, stay your normal, boring, insignificant selves.

Cry Baby vs. the Real A.B.

So the big shit this weekend was how girly boy Shah Rukh Khan got all butt-hurt because he was taken in for secondary questioning at a U.S. airport. Is this gay boy really this fucking sensitive!? Hey buddy, your last name is fucking Khan, and contrary to what you might like to think about yourself, nobody else outside of India, Dubai and a few other countries knows who the fuck you are! It’s called racial profiling and it makes sense, because the last time I checked, the only crazy motherfuckers blowing themselves up in planes, trains and automobiles all had similar last names. Suck it up, gay boy. You’re not above the law – unless of course you’re A.B. (and no, I’m not talking about you, Amitabh, you arrogant prick!). Of course, I’m welcomed on a freakin’ red carpet when I come into J.F.K., probably because I’ve actually rung the market opening bell for Nasdaq. The only fucking “bells” you’re ringing are Karan Johar’s. Respect.

The Story of JZ…No, Not the Rapper…

So everyone has been rattling my cage the last few weeks, getting their panties in a twist over these so-called “significant” industry moves, key employees of mine who have decided that they finally are grown up enough to stop sucking papa’s teat, and move on to bigger and better things. Amongst the most recent departures, as most Techcrunch wannabe Indian blogs have already publicized, were Joy and Zaki.

Joy has been anything but the last few months. Yeah Joy, we’re Nasdaq listed, fucking get over it and buck up to the pressure! Mommy is not going to keep us SarbOx compliant, you crybaby bastard! If it was for someone even slightly more competent than a mentally retarded monkey, we might have gotten the price we wanted from Google or Yahoo! Whew. Sorry there, underlings, it’s going to be a real pain in the neck to get another CFO to file our 10Ks and Qs, keep us SarbOx compliant, and make sure we don’t get delisted once our stock starts eating shit. Nothing but love for ya’, Joy. Good luck, fuck face.

On to Zak. People are really making too big a deal of Z’s departure. Yes, Z has been there pretty much from the beginning of the dawn of Internet in India, i.e. the launch of Rediff. He is the brains behind some of our best products, including MoneyWiz. Now he’ll be off to Web 18, trying to fix what I call the la caca mas grande, or in English, the biggest piece of Internet feces ever excreted in the history of mankind. Yes, you guessed it underlings – in.com. More on that later, but I just gotta ask Surya and the boys – what the fuck is in.com!? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings when I turned down the acquisition offer, but you didn’t have to get offended and build this heap of turd. Wish you guys weren’t so close to my office, I can actually smell the crap from where I sit.

Back to Zak. Is Zak’s departure a big deal? Perhaps, but you all must realize that Rediff is now bigger than Zak, or Joy, or any one person. Rediff is I, and I am Rediff, and that’s all you need to fucking know. Zak, I’ll miss ya’ pal. You were and still are a stud, and while I shudder thinking of how many brain cells you will kill on a daily basis dealing with some of the most vapid, imbecilic, bovine morons on the face of this planet….sorry, I was going to follow that up with an “at least you…”; but I can’t think of anything positive. Oh well, guess you’re fucked! Don’t let the door hit your fat ass on the way out!

MoneyControl: Out of Control

I’m fucking sick and tired of people telling me that MoneyControl.com is India’s leading finance portal. Let me let you in on a little secret, chump. It’s not. Ever heard of Rediff MoneyWiz? It kicks MC’s ass every day of the week and twice on Sundays. Now everyone knows that MC is Web18’s little crown jewel, without which nobody would even piss in their direction. In fact, if it weren’t for MC, Web18 would be valued in Zimbabwean dollars.

The fact is that MC is nothing more than a big fucking billboard. I could pay them to put a picture of my shaved ass on there if I wanted to; that’s how desperate their sales people are. Honestly, I have no freakin’ clue on what to do when I come to MC. There are so many flashy thingamajigs, banners, popups, peel-aways, and God knows what else, the last time I visited the site I actually suffered an epileptic seizure. In another instance on MC, my mouse cursor actually got cornered by ads – I couldn’t move a pixel in either way without hovering over something that would take over my screen. Instead, an audio ad was triggered that simply said, “we got you now, fucker.” Sick. I like money, but I won’t whore my homepage out for it…at least not anymore.

And don’t believe all that bullshit about MC being the “number one finance portal in India.” It simply ain’t true. MoneyWiz gets more unique visits, page views, as well as guju time-on-site – a very important metric for finance portals in India. And who are all these self-proclaimed “experts” on the site? Udayan Mukherjee? His ears are so fucking big, I bet he can hear my thoughts as I type this. Bejan Daruwala? Are you serious? Now some geriatric crazy old fart is going to read lunar patterns for stock tips? Hey MC, while you’re at it, why don’t you throw Baba Ramdev and A.K. Hangal in the mix too? While one can teach me how to put my legs behind my head to pull money out of my asshole, the other will tell me to invest in the wheel, because he thinks it’s “the next big thing.”

Eat MoneyWiz shit, MC.

Pahwa Pahwa, Bhai Bhai

Medianama, run by the easily excitable bucket of lard Nikhil Pahwa, today reported some statistics on HT Media, the company that owns Hindustan Times and Mint, along with a few web properties not even worth mentioning. First of all, for those of you that have ever dealt with dough boy, isn’t he one annoying s.o.b.? He’s like one of those fruit flies that keeps buzzing around your head, one that you just want to spray the entire can of Baygon on. After that, you want to step on the fruit fly carcass, just to make sure. And after that, you want to flush it down the toilet or light it on fire, making sure in the rare case it did survive, its chances are reduced to nothing. He’s like one of those.

Anyways, the interesting thing about the post is that there was no mention of DesiMartini.com, the lump of sewage that HT “bought” back in late 2007. Of course, higher ups (and the highest up, yours truly) know the facts about the sham of a deal, which, at this point, is irrelevant. Pahwa’s omission obviously makes sense since he’s cousins with internet genius Vivek Pahwa, who, along with DesiMartini.com, has a few more gems in his crown, such as SecondShaadi.com & Gaadi.com. What’s next, numbnuts, SecondGaadiForThirdShaadi.com? Christ, gimme a break!

The likeliest scenario is that HT Media has written off DesiMartini.com and has cast it off to the depths of Internet hell, where it belongs. A few retarded jingles on TV does not an internet product make.

Bow Down

Welcome to my world, people. As you all know, I invented email, chat and the internet in India. Before my brilliant epiphany, you morons were pretty hopeless. Let’s be real; you illiterate fuckers were running around half naked hunting wild boar with spare rickshaw parts before I descended upon you. I gave you hope. I gave you life. I gave you rediff.

And no, as much as Rajesh Jain likes to think he’s me, IndiaWorld was but a curly pube on my right ball. In fact, I like to refer to it as IndiaTurd. Don’t get me started on Rajesh Jain. Besides spending hours of his time giving us worthless ‘gyaan’ on his blog, what else has this guy done? Netcore? Isn’t that just some company that runs McAfee and Norton for retards that can’t figure it out on their own? Yeah, real hot startup you got there, Rajesh. Has Yahoo!, Google or Microsoft come knocking on your door, begging you for a lick? No, there are only one set of nuts they want a crack at, and they’re fixed squarely between my legs. Go grow some of your own.

Anyways, I had to blow some steam there. Sorry, people. Let’s get back on track here.

I’ve decided to start this masterpiece of a blog for one reason and one reason only: so that you may appreciate the greatness before you, respect the legacy that I will leave behind, and bow down to the greatest of all time. Along the way, I will be sharing my personal opinions and experiences with you on a bunch of things. You see, a new breed of little snot-nosed fuckers think they are the new hot shits in town. I’m here to remind them that papa still sits atop the Alexa throne. Oh, what’s that you say? I can’t hear anyone below Alexa rank 100, bitch.

Bring it on. FAB is here.