The Indians have gone berserk. The only thoughts processed are about "What the heck do I do tomorrow"? Tomorrow, for all of you who are un-initiated in the game of cricket, is the world cup semi-final between India and Kenya. Yes, I know. Kenya. Anyways. Chirag just came over and told me we're hiring a projector, have got the cable guy to wire the office, and the beer and everything else can happen right here, including fantasizing about Mandira Bedi, for which we have all been sent an introductory mail. If you don't know what a Mandira Bedi is, too bad. Tomorrow is the day. Actually, the night.
What is this insurance thing about anyway? If George Bush was an insurance salesman, by now Iraq would have bombed itself. (Context: I have just gotten off the phone with a VERY persuasive agent. "Quit" is not a word they have ever learnt. Or "No". Or "Exit". I don't even think they shut their computers down.)
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