Archive for July, 2011

19
Jul
11

Bar Review: Café Mailoo

By Aditya Mehta 14 Comments
Categories: Food & Drink
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Parle East’s only cool bar has got a makeover and is now the bar to beat all bars. Owned by Parsis and run by South Indians, Café Mailoo offers you cheap booze and good food in a great setting. The décor makes you want to sit around even if you don’t drink alcohol, the prices are very reasonable, and the service – there are only two-three waiters handling the non-ac section, but they’re always running around and smiling all the time, so you don’t mind waiting a bit longer to get your refill.

They have a family section upstairs, which makes it a perfect hangout for suicide bombers. I’ve wasted whole afternoons and evenings at this bar drinking whisky (the draught beer isn’t fresh) and eating kababs, and can tell you that everything on the menu is worth a try and you won’t have to pay through your nose for anything. Café Mailoo should be every suburban barfly’s second home.

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13
Jul
11

Protected: Stupid BMC To Desilt Lakes For Dumbfuck Devotees

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Categories: General Announcements, Globe Fucker and The Satanic Scholar
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12
Jul
11

Food Review: Kakori House

By Aditya Mehta 18 Comments
Categories: Food & Drink
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Kakori House is a restaurant chain that claims to have the secret recipe of the kakori kebab, which was prepared for a royal who lost his teeth while playing a sport. Such was his craving for meat, that his cooks invented a recipe for kebabs so soft that the ruler would be able to enjoy meat without having to wear dentures, which probably hadn’t been invented then. You know whose mom necessity is.

So we go straight for the kakori kebabs, which turn out to be the softest kababs (it reads better spelled this way) ever. So delicate and tasty that you don’t want to have them with the green chutney that has jeera in it. It is impossible to chew them – they can’t even be lifted off the plate as whole pieces. The mutton galawati kebabs are round and they taste exactly like the kakori kebabs, but all this special stuff is overpriced or too little in quantity, depending on how you choose to see it.

Next up is lagan ki boti – boneless mutton pieces in a curry which isn’t really there. The taste of the spices used here will stay with you till the end of the day and perhaps make you go back to Kakori House to try the other Awadhi dishes. It was a mistake having this almost-dry dish with roomali rotis. The haleem and warqi parathas look very nice but there is nothing about the haleem (mutton paste) which makes it stand out. Warqi parathas are cooked on an ulta tava and are thin and yellow. Maybe all this authentic lucknowi food would taste a lot better in Lucknow.

The dum gosht lucknowi biryani, which the manager claims everyone comes to Kakori House for, sucks. It is completely dry and devoid of flavour. There are about four mutton pieces in it, but neither that nor the unexciting raita can make up for the boring biryani. The manager then comes back and tells us everything on the menu is made from secret recipes that are known only to the owner and his wife. They should make sure the biryani recipe remains a secret.

REVIEW: Sernyaa REVIEW: Jafferbhai’s Delhi Darbar

08
Jul
11

Movie Review: Murder 2

By Aditya Mehta 12 Comments
Categories: Movie Reviews
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Mohit Suri has got to be shitting me. I was discovering the pleasure of holding someone else’s hand when Murder came out, and now the sequel’s here. A pretty twisted one it is. No relation to the first part except the killer sings one of the songs from Murder every now and then. Oh yes, baby, here’s the story: A pimp is worried because a bunch of hookers from his catalogue have gone missing, so he calls upon the services of an ex-cop (Emraan Hashmi) who’s in everything for the money when he’s not fucking his model girlfriend Jacqueline Fernandez. Is she his mohabbat or his zaroorat, she asks, to which he replies that she is his aadat. Where the hell was this guy when I needed lessons?

So now a whole lot of sluts have gone missing, but it’s not hard for Emraan to figure what’s going on. He must be overjoyed Mallika Sherawat isn’t in Murder 2 smiling like a whore about to get paid. Well, forget about that cunt, and not because Jackie Fernandez is too fuckin’ sexy, but because the bad guy is aiming straight for the ‘villain of the year’ award on this blog. Can’t even call him a bad guy, because Prashant Narayanan, in splendid form, used to be a man who was very horny all the time and got himself castrated to remove the root of his problems, and now butchers women – sluts, angels, anything with a pussy – for fun. A psychopathic, crossdressing, makeup-loving hijra who casually confesses to the police that he chops women up but doesn’t tell them that he throws the corpses in a well behind his house, and then goes on to hack a fellow eunuch, a priest and a wannabe hooker inside a fucking temple? Hindi cinema has finally come of age.

RATING: 3.5/5

07
Jul
11

Music Review: Arch Enemy – Khaos Legions

By Aditya Mehta Leave a Comment
Categories: Music Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


I can think of no finer band than Arch Enemy that has ruined its chances of remaining legendary. With songwriting and musicianship of this nature, they would have been sitting pretty in my list of all-time top metal bands if they’d still had Johan Liiva. It may be none of my business, but Liiva’s was the style that matched Arch Enemy’s music. His gruff vocal delivery and the lyrical depth he brought with him blended with classy riffs and smoking hot guitar solos stirred up by the Amott brothers and together with the thumping bass and airtight drumming, Arch Enemy made for splendid listening. Just listen to Burning Bridges from start to end and you’ll know exactly what I mean.

Even as Khaos Legions begins with an instrumental, I know what is in store: Terrific music with poorly placed vocals singing immature lyrics – it’s been this way since fucking 2001. Angela Gossow can produce harsh growls alright, but the only reason I’m even giving this a listen is because I know what kind of tension the brothers Amott can create. I’ve heard it on Black Earth and Stigmata and Burning Bridges with Johan Liiva singing deeply emotional lyrics in his nihilistic way. And I’ve heard Angela Gossow do it all wrong on Wages Of Sin and the albums that followed.

Yeah, the music review. Arch Enemy makes fucking killer music. The riffing is insane and the guitar solos are smoking hot. Ditto for bass and the drums. This is melodic death metal that pummels you.

The novelty of a bodacious female death metal growler may attract countless young fans from all over the globe, but the bad singing is not fooling me one bit, and till the end of time will I lament the loss of one of my favourite bands only because the microphone is in the wrong hands.

RATING: 2/5

READ MORE MUSIC REVIEWS:

Torchbearer – Death Meditations
Morbid Angel – Illud Divinum Insanus
Amorphis – The Beginning Of Times
Samael – Lux Mundi
Septic Flesh – The Great Mass

06
Jul
11

Putrefaction In Progress 6

By Aditya Mehta 3 Comments
Categories: Demand & Supply
Tags: , , , , ,

Last year’s April Fool joke got picked up by search engines when Metallica announced they’d be playing in India later this year. Also helping matters was WordPress’ ‘Poppressed’ – they picked up a beer post. Click on the pics to view them in full size. Don’t feel shy.

The blog enjoyed 87,027 page views from January 1, 2011 to June 31, 2011. Thank you for reading!

05
Jul
11

Movie Review: Delhi Belly

By Aditya Mehta 39 Comments
Categories: Guest Columns and Movie Reviews
Tags: , ,

Delhi Belly ki maa ka bhosda, says Biprorshee Das

Yes, Delhi Belly ki Maa ka Bhosda! Oh, offended, are you? Didn’t I tickle your funny bone? No? You will not laugh hysterically? Even if I use crude Hindi to suggest that my posterior is being split into two or tell you in all graphic glory how my faeces look like? You would at least chuckle if I let one rip, won’t you please?

No? Wait! You are throwing the world’s ‘ewwwwws’ and disgusted looks at me?

I’m aghast. On Saturday though you wouldn’t stop laughing at these very things when Abhinav Deo and Aamir Khan told you that it is funny or at least implied it is.

Seriously, what did I miss?

At the very onset, let me say this is not a film review. I am not qualified to do that. And I am very sure, by now you have your own 4.96418733333/5 stars for Delhi Belly.

This is about a question I need to ask. And you are free to question my intellect, sanity, of course perspective and you are free to be judgmental.

Question? Yes! When did cuss words and reference to human waste become funny? No, do not give me that ‘situational’ bullshit — “Oh! But in that situation, it was funny.” No, it wasn’t.

There are millions of videos on YouTube that show off a “swearing baby”, “baby saying fuck”, “cute baby farting” and gazillion comments that scream, “Awwwwwwwwww….”

How old were Imran Khan, Vir Das (why does that dude even bother?) and Kuna(a)l Roy Kapur in the movie again?

Seriously, are you going to give me the “Oh-the-movie-kept-it-real” crap now? Am I the only person who thinks it is NOT real and is a bit abnormal for swear words being thrown around like that? No, you do not know what a truck driver’s vocabulary I have, so don’t get there. I have learnt my Hindi in one of the most crude belts of the country and words/phrases such as “bhenchod” and “teri maa ki chut” were as elementary as the school I went to those days.

You think it is normal and “real” for every second word in a sentence to be “chutiya” or “bhenchod”? You do that? I don’t think so.

Well ok, let’s say you do consider it normal. If it’s normal why are you laughing then? Are you laughing with that whole “Hawwww…dekho gaali diya” thingie on your mind? Then you sure sported a fake ID proof when you went to the movies to enjoy Delhi Belly.

And of course, “crappy” jokes never cease to be funny, does it?

Is it just me who smells a rat behind the swear and shit? Is it just me who thinks that the film makers knew that the plot was weak and the movie had to be sold hyping the profanity and a sex scene that was really much ado about nothing. (Seriously, if that is the hoopla you are going to create about your female lead’s pussy being licked, I want to see and hear more than just her moan and groan!)

Does nobody see that there was nothing new about the plot? Does nobody think Guy Ritchie and Snatch? Does nobody find it weird that we are not really laughing at jokes and gags anymore but stuff we wouldn’t give two fucks about otherwise in real life?

I have groaned enough thinking when would Bollywood stop paying its unwarranted and terrible tributes to Coppola and The Godfather. I think a new God has been found in Guy Ritchie. At least be worth his style when you copy.

I believe Aamir Khan when he said he never saw Memento. Christopher Nolan would too if he saw the disaster that was called Ghajini. So I’ll also believe if anybody makes the Ritchie reference and Khan and his team decide to deny the existence of the filmmaker.

Take a flying fuck, Aamir Khan and Abhinav Deo and next time you or anybody want to feed me with shit….chal bhagg, bhosdi ke!

Almost forgot…gave you cuss words, potty reference, here’s titillating eye candy. At least, now laugh!

04
Jul
11

Justice Has Been Served In The Neeraj Grover Murder Case

By Aditya Mehta 49 Comments
Categories: Globe Fucker and General Announcements
Tags:

GOOD RIDDANCE: Bye bye, beta!

How many men would walk away silently after barging into their girlfriend’s home and finding a naked man there? None – only pussies would. Emile Jerome Matthew discovered Neeraj Grover in the nude at Maria Susairaj’s house, and the men got into an altercation which had to lead to something big. It ended with Grover getting chopped in small pieces. Emile got sentenced to 10 years in jail for killing someone in blind rage, so what’s the problem?

All you idiots who think justice has been denied, ask yourselves what kind of justice would it have been if EJM had merely jumped up and down in anger and Neeraj Grover would have gone home sniggering. The dead dumb-ass you guys are going on protest walks for was getting sex because he had convinced the whore-bag he could get her plum roles on television. If she was a manipulative bitch, that was entirely Grover’s bad luck. Emile Jerome Matthew was fucking her the way any real man would – on merit.

Sad as it is for Neeraj Grover’s parents, it is also their misfortune that their son was a beta male who got what he deserved for fucking a superior man’s girlfriend. Now don’t give me shit like ‘an alpha male would have walked away’ – think about all the things you’ve said and done in anger, and then understand that EJM found Neeraj Grover in the buff at his girlfriend’s house. Think about how you would have channeled your rage, and then shut the fuck up.

The alpha caught the beta with his woman and punished him for it. End of story.

To all you Anna Hazare wannabes: go for a long walk, and when you get tired walking for a dead beta male, shove the candle up your ass.

03
Jul
11

Raving And Ranting About Drug Users

By Aditya Mehta 13 Comments
Categories: Mind Body & Spirit and The Satanic Scholar
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

To a sobered Bombay, a hung-over Gujarat and a world on drugs

Drugs remain a taboo because we choose to keep it that way. What goes on at jungle raves and beach raves goes on at clubs and house parties too, the difference being that a jungle or beach party would have much higher levels of energy. And raves are the ones that get busted by cops more than any other type of event. But what authorities don’t know is that police raids on such parties can cause more harm than do good. Partygoers running helter-skelter – sober and clean people running because they have a train to catch the next afternoon, others running because they are on drugs. People chucking all their stash and fleeing by leaping over high walls, escaping by hiding in garbage bins for hours, or breaking a leg by jumping from a dangerous height in fear of being caught by cops who claim they want don’t want to harass the drug users and only want information on where the drugs are coming from.

The whole damn world knows where the maal is sold: right under the police’s nose. But legalization is too much to ask for, even if it means that charas and ganja will be bought and sold legally and people will get to smoke unadulterated stuff, and that corruption will decrease because the police will not be able to take hafta from peddlers and bribes from scared youngsters and the Government will make a killing with the revenue generated from sales of recreational drugs.

Look at Gujarat. Supposedly a dry state, but a bazaar for bootleggers, with alcohol in every form being sold at costly rates… and who’s buying? Almost everybody is. Some might say lifting the ban on alcohol in Gujarat may encourage youngsters to drink, but imagine what happens when a young driver gets drunk on his dad’s bottle o’ bootlegged and is stopped by cops. That’s right – not only is driving drunk a crime, but in the land of Gandhi, even drinking is a crime. So, the fellow steps on the gas in panic, the alcohol and adrenalin playing havoc with his mind, and rams the car into something or someone he shouldn’t. That day will come sooner or later, Gujarat. In Bombay, we’ll jail the drunk driver. In Ahmedabad, you’ll have only yourselves to blame.

We’re the ones who criminalize the use of drugs. For some reason, we’re afraid to let others know that we have used drugs to our advantage, that they have helped us greatly and that we would have been far less aware of ourselves and things around us had we not taken those drugs. It’s not necessary to announce to the boss that he would have a great time smoking pot or to inform everyone at a family function that they’re all idiots because they haven’t dropped acid, but to not acknowledge that which has played a positive role in our lives is to disrespect it. Hey, if we can be grateful to a god who won’t rise for a turkey that didn’t come flying from heaven, and if we can praise an invisible god for everything that happens even though it was the butcher who slaughtered the goat, we can surely give credit where it’s overdue, yeah?

RELATED STUFF:
Cocaine: A Nightmare
Heroin: Chasing The Dragon
How To Quit Drinking Alcohol Instantly

02
Jul
11

Movie Review: Bbuddah Hoga Terra Baap

By Aditya Mehta 12 Comments
Categories: Movie Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The film is an unabashed tribute to the most alpha man in the history of cinema

A politician arrives at the scene of a bomb blast, making the mastermind watching it all on a news channel comment that it’s only such events that politicians show up for. He instructs the man who has just carried out the blast to make the second bomb go off, and turns to a member of his gang and asks the guy if he has ever watched a live telecast of a bomb blast. After the second explosion, he turns back to the man and says, “Ab koi nahi aayega.”

Silliness is the name of the game, and even though this movie guises itself as a serious film, it has jokes in every other frame. Not the Dabanng kind of inanity, not even the impossible, unbelievable stuff that makes idiots build temples in Rajnikant’s name. Bbuddah Hoga Terra Baap will have the masses and the classes chuckling because of the the references (there can never be enough) to Amitabh Bachchan’s movies and the general goofiness of all the characters in every situation of this film.

Amitabh Bachchan (the greatest actor in the world) plays a retired gangster who has left his pub in Paris to kick some ass in Mumbai. He charms young girls and older women with ease, rides a macho bike, wears shades while aiming at the unfortunate with a sniper.

Do you really want to know the story? Do you really care? This is the most loved Indian of all time – respected, adored, worshipped for every single thing he did and does. There is nobody in the universe who can walk, talk, stand, punch with a left hand, fire a gun, kick an erring motherfucker, make women fall in love and swoon, make men’s jaws drop in awe, grab someone by the collar, get angry, be apologetic, cry, laugh, smile, run, shout, dance, grit his teeth, smoke, get drunk, be funny, love, hate, live and die the way this man can. Nobody can even come close. How all the charisma in the world is crammed in one man is a great mystery to me.

The other actors are very good; they do what they’re supposed to do. Everybody is fucking funny and will crack you up at one point or another. Raveena Tandon looks like a zillion bucks and Sonal Chauhan has overthrown Priyanka Chopra and has taken her place in my life. Yeah, I am no longer in love with Priyanka Chopra. So long, Piggy Chops.

Back to the main stuff – Bbuddah Hoga Terra Baap is silly, but in a sweet, cute way. It is Puri Jagannadh’s unabashed tribute to the most alpha man in the history of cinema. The man who every man, woman and child can relate to. This is the man enjoying himself in a movie about everything he stands (tall) for because he still has the chops (of course) and because nobody else will ever be able to play him. How he transcended genres and went on to rule Hindi cinema is what will make other actors realize how important a role destiny plays – how one man can have everything while others…

Bbuddah Hoga Terra Baap is not meant to be taken very seriously. It’s for those who have grown up watching Amitabh Bachchan’s movies to sit back and laugh at the baap having some fun.

RATING: 2.5/5

Rishte mein toh hum tumhare baap lagte hain…

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