For the Directionally Challenged

Now to bring some cheer into my blog. I don't think even an inanimate entity like a blog can stand so much negativity.

This post is dedicated to my friend... well, I don't want to straight away reveal his identity in case he gets offended. So, building on Vasu's ingeniously obfuscating algorithm, we have XsantoshX.

There are 3,417 types of people in this world. One of them is the Directionally Challenged. The ones that can't tell their right hand from their left. And I have been blessed to be surrounded by a few of them. (blessed because I take a kind of sadistic pleasure in making fun of them). The epitome of these being XanshuX (Vasu's algo strikes again, thank you Vasu). But since I fear that my fingers might get sore from typing out all of his mis-endeavours, I'll settle for one little one on XsantoshX.

This anecdote is of a time when we (obnoxious five, etc.) used to have frequent night outs. Not the inebriated puke-fests, just good old clean fun - watch a movie or two, stuff ourselves with junk food... ok, this is getting gay, but you get the point.

This particular time, some of them, (again using that stupendous algorithm) XsantoshX, XanshuX, XramaX (I think), decided to go for a stroll early at daybreak. How they got up so early, let us not try to decipher in this post. (and you call me Photosyntiesis... hmmph...)
And so they set about walking, as far away as, for desperate need of an amusing epithet and lack of a good one, their hairy legs could carry them, due north.
After about an hour or so the lethargy bug inside XsantoshX (also lovingly called Lethargica) begins to gnaw its way towards his brain. His legs fail to respond, he starts to sweat, his bladder starts to fill up with that brine-y fluid. "That's it! I am going back. I am taking the bus.", he manages to grumble. But his companions aren't done yet. They want to go all the way. Leh, if possible...

Ok, now just try to be a little imaginative. Picture this... You're walking away from home, on the right side of the main road. You want to turn and go back home. Which side of the road would you go to, to catch a bus?

The bug had done it's job. The Acquired Direction Deficiency Syndrome was working in overdrive mode. Looking towards both sides of the road, XsantoshX makes a mad dash to the other side, to the bus-stop.

I rest my case.

I prefer calling these damned souls, rejects of God's great plan to produce human compasses, the Differently Disabled.

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