Mauritius Blog Tracker » Umar

Preuve irréfutable que le père Noël n’existe pas! (interdit aux moins de 7 ans)

Umar — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 08:31:00 +0000

Ames sensibles s’abstenir ! ! !

Il y a approximativement deux milliards d’enfants (moins de 18 ans) sur terre. Cependant, comme le père Noël ne visite pas les enfants musulmans, hindous, juifs ou bouddhistes (sauf peut-être au Japon), ceci réduit la charge de travail pour la nuit de Noël a 15% du total, soit 378 millions. En comptant une moyenne de 3.5 enfants par foyer, cela revient à 108 millions de maisons, 54 millions en présumant que chacune comprend au moins un enfant sage.

Le Père Noël dispose de 31 heures, le jour de Noël, pour effectuer son travail (en tenant compte des différents fuseaux horaires, de la rotation terrestre, et en supposant qu’il voyage d’est en ouest, ce qui semble logique). Cela revient à 967,7 visites de domiciles par seconde.

De façon pratique, cela signifie que pour chaque résidence ayant de bons enfants, le Père Noël dispose de un millième de seconde pour parquer le traîneau, sauter en dehors, dégringoler dans la cheminée, remplir les chaussettes, distribuer le reste des présents au pied du sapin, déguster les quelques friandises laissées à son intention, regrimper dans la cheminée, enfourcher le traîneau et passer à la maison suivante. En supposant que chacun de ces 91,5 millions d’arrêts soient uniformément distribués autour de la planète, nous parlons ici d’une distance de 1 200 mètres par résidence visitée soit un voyage total de 110 millions de kilomètres, sans compter les arrêts et les détours pour ravitailler ou pisser.

Cela signifie que le traîneau du Père Noël se déplace a 1170 kilomètres par seconde, soit 3000 fois la vitesse du son. A titre de comparaison, le véhicule le plus rapide fabriqué par l’homme, la sonde spatiale Ulysse, se déplace à une vitesse douloureuse de 49 km/sec. Un renne conventionnel, lui, se déplace a une vitesse maximale de 24 kilomètres à l’heure, et encore, avec des anabolisants.

La charge portée par le traîneau ajoute un autre élément d’intérêt. En supposant que chaque enfant ne reçoive rien de plus qu’un jeu Lego de grandeur moyenne (un kilo), le traîneau transporte alors 321.300 tonnes, sans compter le Père Noël, qui est invariablement décrit comme souffrant d’embonpoint. Sur le plancher des vaches, les rennes conventionnels ne peuvent tirer plus de 150 kilos de marchandises. Même si l’on accordait aux rennes volants une capacité de traction 10 fois plus grande que la normale, il serait impossible de faire le travail avec huit ou neuf rennes : il faudrait 214 200 de ces rennes spéciaux. Tous ces rennes augmentent le poids total à un sommet de 353 430 tonnes, quatre fois le poids du paquebot Queen Elisabeth – et nous ne tenons pas compte du poids du traîneau lui-même.

353 000 tonnes voyageant à 1170 kilomètres par seconde créent une résistance énorme à l’air, chauffant les rennes de la même manière que la navette rentrant dans l’atmosphère terrestre. Les deux rennes en tête de convoi absorberaient chacun une énergie calorifique de 14 300 millions de joules/s. En résumé, ils exploseraient en flammes quasi instantanément, exposant les rennes adjacents à des dommages collatéraux sévères et créant des boums soniques assourdissants lors de leur passage au-dessus des agglomérations endormies et sereines. La meute entière de rennes serait complètement vaporisée en 4.26 millièmes de secondes, soit juste le temps pour le père Noël d’atteindre la cinquième maison de sa tournée.

Pas de quoi s’en faire de toute façon, puisque le père Noël, en passant de manière fulgurante de zéro à 1170 km/s en un millième de seconde, serait sujet à des accélérations allant jusqu’à 17 500 G’s.

Pendant ce temps, le Père Noël sera donc sujet à des forces centrifuges 17 500,06 fois plus fortes que la force gravitationnelle. Un Père Noël de 125 kilos (ce qui semble ridiculement mince) serait plaqué au fond du traîneau par une force de 2 157 507,5 kilos, écrabouillant instantanément ses os et ses organes et le réduisant à un petit tas de chair rose et tremblotante.

C’est pourquoi, si le père Noël a existé, il est mort maintenant.

Lack of creativity…thanks to butterflies

Umar — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 22:41:00 +0000

Not too much has been written these past 2 months on my blog. Lack of creativity… thanks to butterflies.

Yes… It’s a girl! And an amazing one.

It’s not that I don’t want to blog - I am very passionate about it. It’s an easy escape route to the absurdities that surround me. Writing can make no sense at all, and still be as intriguing as …. (still thinking for something intriguing….) euh….as intriguing as tarantino movies (sorry, couldn’t find anything intriguing)

My mind has been taken over… and by thoughts of this beautiful girl – hastily infiltrating my sub-conscious, mercilessly entertaining my anxieties, and slowly eating away at the last bit of sanity I am latching onto. Since having a ‘real’ girlfriend- not a virtual-long-distance-telepathic-in-another-dimension-next-to-the-matrix-one, i’ve realised that i was spending most of my time in front of my computer on social websites such as facebook and twitter because i didn’t really have a life. It’s not that i believe that all you tweeters and facebookers don’t really have a life…maybe you do, maybe you don’t….it’s just that i tried to replace my need for love and affection by looking for new friends and keeping in touch with older ones. Now, the need to stalk on other people’s life has faded away; i’ve got so many other preoccupations like what to cook, what’s in the fridge, have i fed my hamster, is my hamster alive, are the small little dots on my hamster tits or pimples, is the girlfriend happy and well-fed, am i well-fed, am i smelling curry, do my farts smell that bad or have i stepped on dog’s poop (i’ve even put an air freshner in my room to mask the bad odours)

Anywhooooo, im seizing the opportunity to wish you all a merry xmas and for those who don’t celebrate xmas a happy winter solstice, or whatever pagan thing happens on that day. Just for the record, jesus wasn’t born on the 25 th December, guess you already know that by now and xmas is just another holiday to poison kid’s mind about existence of elves and life in the north pole and that a fat man can fly on reindeers and fit in a chimney and blaaaaaa. Damn, i’ve got 10 pair of shoes, i have to clean them all to get gifts!

Nity nite folks, im off for a capuccino/cig (don’t tell my mum and my gf) and see the snow blizzard outside.

Medical Student Syndrome

Umar — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 12:29:00 +0000

In a smelly dismal hospital that would be the perfect setting for a ‘SAW‘ or a ‘HOSTEL‘ movie, i slowly start to fade in my ‘deep’ reflections whilst my classmates torture patients with their broken romanian sentences. I reckon patients find us funny or amusing, like how we mauritian people would giggle if we hear a chinese or a bangladeshi factory worker try to speak creole. The other day, one of my friends was asking a patient in romanian: ‘am diabetes, am diabetes?’ which would roughly translate into ‘i have diabetes, i have diabetes?’…and the patient amused, was wondering why the hell he was saying that. I guess it’s hard in any language to conjugate verbs; i still remember the days of Alliance Francaise, with the ‘si le complement d’objet direct se place avant le verbe, le verbe s’accorde en genre et en nombre avec celui-ci’ :-S damn, that was hard…and useless! Ask anybody now if the ‘épithete liee, epithete detachee’ or whatever rubbish they made us study ever been of help to them! Ironically, after studying french for like 11 years, i can’t even make a decent conversation without sweating in between my ass, stuttering and stammering, or using the same adjective over and over again! I caught myself the other day saying ‘le temps est BON ici, la fac aussi est tres BON, la bouffe aussi est BON, tu veux un BONBON’ … That’s kinda sad, because a lot of french chicks just arrived at the faculty…sniff sniff.

Back to my reflections, you know, the deep ones i was talking about. It’s amazing the life of a medical student; i’m not talking about the complaining part i.e. the long sleepless nights of coffee, redbull (or beer/palinka- depending on people) spent studying diseases with a frequency of one in a million or the boring 3-4 hour lectures discussing about substances released from ‘i-dunno-what-hole-next-to-some-shit-like-structure-but-which-has-no-function-whatsoever‘. Medicine has modelled my thought process and my emotions. When i see a person with a red face, I don’t think like everybody else that he stayed too much in the sun, i start thinking about different pathologies that he may have. Short stature, big breasts, fat ass…everything can be explained rationally by medicine. However, sometimes, the easiest diagnosis evade us; for instance yellow stains on the fingers may not always be nicotine stains, it may also be symptomatic for somebody who mixes massala everyday . We also become heartless people studying medicine. I once was thinking of the oil drooling from a beef steak of a ‘big tasty from mc donalds’ whilst the doctor was cutting open through the fat layer of a cadaver.

Anywhoooooo (as J.D would say), Scrubs season 9 is on tomorrow, life is beautiful. Couldn’t be any happier these days. I finally met somebody who makes me strive to be perfect (or more perfect ). Being happy and making everybody around me happy, looking good, eating 11 servings of briani in 4 days, even farts are starting to smell nice…i’m off dreaming again….

I put the ‘Fun’ in Funeral

Umar — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 03:40:00 +0000

The blogger in me slowly dies just like a fly who had a puff of baygon. Nothing interesting to write, lack of motivation or simple laziness, can’t say exactly what weird ailment i have. Nothing much happening lately in my life…oh yea, i nearly met with an accident. A fast car collided with the small bricks that separates the lane , drifted a few hundred meters on the wet road, the tyres were screeching and there were sparks all over the place. It was like a scene from ‘fast and furious Tokyo drift‘ right in front of my very eyes. I hardly moved or blinked an eye as the car went past me. Maybe it could have hit me, or hit another car that would hit a truck carrying logs of wood that would roll on the streets hitting an electric pylon causing live wires to make contact with the wet road, transmitting the electricity to my body through the myelinated fibres of my spine and making shish khebab with my brains and giving me nice new spiky hair in the process (that could be the script for final destination 5!). However, i was a bit disappointed since my life did not flash in front me in black and white at that very moment. I wonder what would be the first thing that would flash in my mind. Boobies, food, loved/hated ones…hmm hard to know. Death...If i blog about death, people would start to think I’m suicidal or depressive and blabla because of the past events in my life. I’m fine, thank you for not asking and the only suicidal thought i had during the last few weeks was when i had to go to hospital at 8 in the morning, climb the stairs till the 8th floor only to be told that there were no classes. I kinda feel weird about death, or about people dying around me. Don’t know if it is because i have seen so many dead bodies, but death for me has become so trivial.

A recent survey stated that the average person’s greatest fear is having to give a speech in public. Somehow this ranked even higher than death which was third on the list. So, you’re telling me that at a funeral, most people would rather be the guy in the coffin than have to stand up and give a eulogy.

If I die anytime soon, please look for some traces of my DNA on the tissues found in my dustbin to revive me when cloning becomes legal; also i would like to give all my belongings- i.e my computer- to my room mate, please format the hard disk and delete all folders named x ; also i would like to give him custody of my beloved hamster -Chapong. Take good care of him/her. I still don’t know if its a he or a she.(n.b: If anybody knows how to recognise the sex of hamsters please leave a comment). Will i just disappear completely or will people still talk about me for centuries- just as Achilles (yea, i’ve just seen Troy again!). Anyhow, my blog will still be here as a testimony to my existence; i will be immortal in my own way.

Top 10 causes of death at the computer:

10.) CD’s were used for a game of frisbee and were found to be too sharp for this purpose.

9.) Died of old age while waiting for a webpage to load.

8.) Died of starvation while waiting for online-ordered meal to arrive.

7.) Went mad trying to understand computer manual.

6.) Computer exploded due to overload of spam and junk mail.

5.) Died of poverty after making the mistake of trying to keep their computer up-to-date.

4.) Bought a mega-hyper-gigaforcep-gerpatologicatron and were never seen again.

3.) Attempted to wire up everything in their house and died of sever burns while trying to flush the toilet.

2.) Tried to design a computer mouse that resembled a real mouse (ate cheese, ran around, squeeked and bit) and died in the process of varied causes.

1.) Commited suicide with frustration after trying to make sense of windows vista.

Not-to-do’s after a break-up

Umar — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 22:12:00 +0000

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was. We do not possess anything in this world, least of all other people. We only imagine that we do. Our friends, our lovers, our spouses, even our children are not ours; they belong only to themselves…

Okay…so the GF and i broke up…just fucking fantastic…

However, because I learned my lesson previously – thanks ex ex ex ex ex ex GF (i’m really bad at numbers :-”) – I have now peacefully and thankfully managed to cognitively reason with rational thought this time around…
…And thus, I have refused to allow these ridiculous emotions take control of my character, and proceed to wreak complete pandemonium all over my physical self – beginning with my mental state, and slowly, yet cautiously, moving on… and targeting my f**king nervous system and my bowel movement (i haven’t taken a shit in days and haven’t changed the nicely lavender scented tissue paper for weeks)

…Oh and I’m not smoking copious amounts of pot either (though a small weed shop just opened selling synthetic legal weed- they call it ‘spice’)… so overthinking can be controlled.

Unfortunately though, this hasn’t completely hindered the demented and awfully obstructive thoughts and ideas that are selectively making their way into my noggin – out of wrath and frustration I assume – which although may seem like a truly excellent and flawless idea at the time, they probably not going to as beneficial in the long run (especially if you planning on keeping your sanity, confidence, and that ability you have to make people smile)…

Temporary satisfaction isn’t a rectifiable solution.

It is why I thought I’d list some nonconstructive tactics one should probably avoid doing – if one is also in this delightful, yet unconformable position.

Do NOT write on bus benches, bus stations, public places “Young sleazy tramp looking for a quick shag and nothing more“, followed by your ex’s cell phone number and home address.
Do NOT isolate yourself from friends and family. Reclusive behaviour will only intensify the situation – and lead to anorexia, smoking cigarettes one after the other… and quite possibly a stomach ulcer.
Do NOT get wasted every single night, and then take it out on the nearest fellow with a bitter attitude. Conversing physically is merely a temporary solution to remove pain and anger.
Do NOT try and shag your exes best friend – this is evil and a common tactic for the ruthless, cold hearted and self absorbed. Avoid, Avoid, Avoid!
Do NOT sickle with common belief that you may never find someone as beautiful, caring and loving as her. If you looked after her, complimented her, treated her well, loved and cared for her – then she probably doesn’t deserve you. Or better yet, just believe that.
Do NOT contact her siblings in order to arrange get-together’s, lunches and dinners – and then proceed to talk about how your life is now a misery and please could they talk her into taking you back. Thats! Just f**king weird… and psycho.
Do NOT get physical with her new man – who you have never met but believe taking your anger out on him will quite simply, make her want you back.
Do NOT phone her countless times and hang up upon her answering – on private number.
Do NOT threaten to commit suicide! As if you are being serious, then stop and think f**king rationally… there is more to life, and your life is bloody important, not just to you, but to those that care for you! But if you just testing her strength, this will usually freak her out – which most likely means she will avoid all possible contact with you. Bad idea, either way. No matter how shit you feel.

Hmmm… if you have any that you have encountered, performed, or heard about. Be sure to comment about them

Ciao!

The Discontinuation of the time space continuum

Umar — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 12:10:00 +0000

‘wouhouuuuuuuuu’…Blur’s Song 2 wakes me up every morning at 7 :45. That’s the best music i found for my alarm to kick start my day. Weirdly enough, i discovered that by the time it takes for me to switch off the alarm or put it on snooze,which takes only a few seconds, some 15 minutes pass by. At first i thought it was some faulty mechanism in my mobile, but the same event happened over and over again each and every day. I couldn’t think of any plausible reason to explain this unnatural phenomena. So today, during my 30 minutes nap – which seemed liked 3 hours- i worked up my neurons to explain the unexplained. My theory is that there is a discontinuation of the time space continuum which occurs from the very moment i open my eyes; the photons of light accelerate in some vortex-like aura found in a specific area around my bed. Some of the gases were sent for analysis and to my great astonishment a large amount of hydrogen sulphite was detected. This gas has a peculiar smell of cabages and rotten eggs which closely ressemble the human fart. The molecules of hydrogen reacts with the light, causing an excitation of the photons, making them exceed the 299 792 458 m/s speed limit that God imposed. 1 min is thus apparently equal to 10 minutes for anybody encapsulated in this vortex. I am currently making another research study on how/why time slows down. If you have been victims of this phenomena, please leave a comment.

I personally find time to slow down on different occasions:
(i) on sundays when i wake up early and 1 day seems like a week
(ii) when i have to wait for a girl on a date, and i’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes but it seems like hours
(iii) when its 21 30 and football starts at 21 45, these 15 minutes seems like an eternity.

And yea, today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me, and i had a great day, lots of fun and i had a blast. Thank you for the wishes. Hope i get to talk to the only person who matters most to me, or else it would be just another crappy day. Im 23, im full of shite, and im a happy depressed person with no ‘natural intelligence’. Life sucks and as Blur would say ‘wouhouuuuuuuuuu’

blues, light and candles

Umar — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 00:07:00 +0000

My apologies for the scarce writing. I’ve just run out of uninteresting shite to write about…honestly. I’ve been scribbling a few stuffs over the past months but never had the courage to finish or publish them. Despite ‘Brain Buddies‘ saying that my brains weigh 3604 grams, i feel like a shrimp- with mostly shite in my head instead of brain matter. The tumultuous 3 months i had back home has eroded some of the sanity i had left. Alone in my room, my cup of tea as my only companion, Sigur Ros as background music remixed by the sound of the rain pelting against the window pane, and the cold tickling my feet, i sulk… I’m done with thinking and acting logically… i’m done trying to please everyone…just wanna lay down and try to figure out what the hell those Sigur Ros’ songs mean; the lyrics may be full of shite and have no meaning at all but still the music is so captivating! If aliens had to speak a language, i reckon it would be icelandic.

I’m trying hard to see the bright side. Divali on this forthcoming Saturday might cheer me. That’s my favourite festival; the festival of light…hmmm…that’s why i might consider it as the BRIGHT side! I love divali because of Sweets, Sarees and Churidars- the best combination ever!Speaking of light reminds me of candles and candles remind me of birthdays. And my birthday is also coming up next week. I hate my birthday. Never had the chance to celebrate it properly. Either i had exams or i was fasting or both. Dunno if you have noticed, the month of October has more births than any other month. Just check your facebook! each and every day in the month of October is somebody’s birthday. I guess during the month of January people shag a lot (maybe because of cyclones and public holidays)

I’m now in my 5th year of Medicine. Somebody told me im a Doc-T now…i just need the OR. (that joke sucks, but i gave him a charity and solidarity LOL). Got classes from 8-20.yippeee. And me who dumbly believed that slavery was abolished long time ago.

I’m off to my small bubble in my foetal position.
Nity Nite Blog (thought i’d give you a name today…As from today, i’ll call my blog ‘Dick’, because that is the most virile of names)

Love, peace, muaks, piouks and shloums

Epiphany- Reality check

Umar — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 09:58:00 +0000

Tuesday afternoon….nothing much to do…the stomach growls, the mind lingers…jigsaws fall into place; everything fits in my mind..now is the perfect time to BITCH!

1. My gf and I didn’t talk for one week…because I told her that we didn’t communicate enough. I think i should post that as an FML.

2. I hate when i just miss a call by the last ring and go ‘alo?alo?aloooooo??!!!’ but when i immediately call back, i get to hear long caller tunes of some crap indian songs for minutes. What the hell did you do after I didn’t answer? Drop the phone and run away?

3. I LOL at the ‘Cold wars‘ people have on facebook. Never heard of facebook cold wars? Nopes, it’s not the same as mafia wars It’s when your status is aimed at somebody in particular but it is written in such a way that it looks like something trivial. The ‘enemy’ will usually reply the same way. There is a wide array of amunitions in ‘Cold wars’ : songs, quizzes, quotes….
for eg: if you on a break with your girlfriend and she posts a video of Craig David’s- I’m walking Away, you post a video of Shania Twain’s- You’re still the one.

4. I reckon when a guy calls one of his friend ‘his sister‘, either :
(a) he tried desperately to date the girl but never succeeded and the only way he could stay close to her is by calling her ‘sister.’
(b) he is a fag.

5. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realise you’re wrong…but nothing feels better when you start twisting and turning to confuse the person.

6. Have you noticed that the majority of people in the ‘people you may know’ on facebook are actually people you deliberately choose not to be friends with.

7. Karma is a real bitch.

8. Sometimes i just want to apologize for being the asshole that i am was. I hurt lots of people’s feelings in the past and have to made ammends to that [ because of (7) ]

9. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

10. Whenever i’m on facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public i feel like a kid on Christmas morning. If there’s like 30 albums and 1800 photos, it is like my birthday + christmas mornig + eid combined together!

11. I LOLed the other day when i read on Le defi plus or L’Hebdo about a girl on facebook having a crush on Le CoQ- Xavier LuC Duval and dedicating her profile to him. Is that the kind of news that we want to see on a front page?? I also found it lame all the sexual innuendos in the newspapers lately about the ‘reunion of the cock family’, le grand bleu blabla.

12. I think i must stop using Facebook as the primary communication method with my girlfriend, family and friends.

13. Adding an ex-gf on your facebook really pisses the current gf. Conversely, talking about an ex-bf really pisses the current bf. In general talkin about ex’s really pisses everybody (are we still talking about ex’s *_*…if only we could jumble the letters…’sex would be a far better topic of conversation)

14. “Do people really learn from their mistakes when they say that they do not regret anything they have done?” is the modern Shakespeare interpretation of “To be or not to be“.

15. I like all the songs on my ipod, except when it’s on shuffle i like around 20 of them.

16. Bad decisions make great stories.

17. Think i should change the title of the blog…maybe only to ‘free speech‘ because nowadays ‘speech’ is a rare tool of expression; and maybe by making it free some people will talk more

“just blending in a world full of cows”

Indian Accents

Umar — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 18:46:00 +0000

I’m sure most of you guys have once encountered somebody speaking with an indian accent…if you haven’t… GET OUT OF YOUR BLOODY HOUSE!!!!it’s the most amazing accent ever; it is a mystery how their tongues never make knots inside their mouth when the speak. V’s becomes W’s and W’s become V’s (which could explain why Volkswagen car are not that popular in India), and the ‘R’ are just ….RRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrS!!!
My ears are not accustomed yet to words being bombarded at the speed of light and my brains are just not well developed enough to process such a large amount of information in a short time.

So the other day, i was chillaxing in a room after standing for hours in the OR when an Indian anesthesist came in to have his lunch.

-”bVVWWeeemukalaamukabalaaaooolailaaaRoRRlouoilkouhllouRRRRRoouuuu KHANA”
I don’t understand hindi, but i think i know how to translate FOOD in every language. I figured out that he was asking me why i didn’t go out for lunch.

-”i’m fasting Doc”

- ” BrooooVooooWWWOooRRRoiiiooWWVVRRrrrrr”

- ” Sir, i don’t understand Hindi Sir”

He looked at me, perplexed, as if i insulted his intelligence. Turns out HE WAS SPEAKING ENGLISH!! Doctors being doctors, they can’t even leave you one single second for you to wander in neverland- they have to always ask you questions pertaining to medicine.

-” HouW much time does it take for the body to use up all its glycogen?” he asked, calmly in a clear english and articulating as best as he could.

I made my dull face as i didn’t know the answer, but he most probably thought that i still couldn’t understand him…

Once a colleague from south India (just imagine how twisted his tongue is) and I made a presentation in a front of a crowded lecture theatre. At the end of the lecture, a pakistani mate approached me and told me that my powerpoint was very nice but he couldn’t understand a word of what i said because of my accent – and I speak english fluently with a bit of a british accent…I was speechless -in every possible accent!:)

Today, i would like to say a big thank you to you people who read my blog. It makes me very happy to know that there are people out there who care. Arigato

My summer practice

Umar — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 21:32:00 +0000