Le Dernier Point de Vente

As Festember's round the corner, oh wait, it's not, it's more than three months away, but still, that wouldn't stop us from frantically whipping up some publicity, we hope that it wouldn't be the failure we fear it would. As one of the pioneers of the freedom of expression as outlined in the Bill of Rights that I am, I fear some, ahem-hem, changes have been made to my voice as it fled towards the public ear. Yes, censorship has cropped its ugly head up, yet again, on our very own backyards (I don't mean my arse, its purely metaphorical). But in the noble cause for my words to reach the plebeian mind, I have posted what I have to say, as it were, no alterations whatsoever, except for the fact that, for the sake of sheer spite, they have been spruced up to inflame and blaspheme more than they did previously. It runs thus:
"As the more perceptive of you would’ve probably realised by now, the running theme for this Festember is…(drumroll) Western (Tada!). Well, in keeping with the tone of this theme, one might pursue many activities this Festember that provides satisfaction to oneself as well as pain to others (just like a good western Samaritan would like it).

* Dressing like cowboys help a lot, with the ladies crooning over you, as well as all the gay men. (courtesy, broke-back mountain, or bare-back, I’m not sure) It also provides room for entrance with a bang, well literally, a gunshot, or horse back, as it gallops its way through the dusty tracks of NITT. Walking into a saloon, with all cowboy apparatus, is an added bonus, and gives ideal opportunities to start a bar fight and kick some serious butt.

* I hear there’s going to be a bull-riding (just riding, not riding, you pervert!) workshop, or not, but still, what’s better than fighting every cow you see, which, by the way, is a lllot of them in the campus, and is a good idea to get some practice and prove that you’re not a yellow-livered sissy, which, the ladies love. (I apologise for constantly using italics whenever I want, It's just that I like doing somethings again, and again, and again, which, again, the ladies love.)

* As you’re probably aware, Festember is quite heavy on one’s pocket. While it was insightfully outlined in the Recession Blues article, the Western theme enables a couple of more innovative strategies for scrounging off the richer folk. As Chutzpah (I know, the name sucks, but you can only take a horse to the pond) so beautifully put it, intimidation helps, a lot. Dressing up as a cowboy helps even more. A pistol up against the back of someone’s head is bound to get you free something. The rugged bad boy image only enhances the malice and achieves said effect faster.

P.S. We, the content team, apologise for coming up with meaningless, hackneyed, desultory lists of utter pointlessness. As you, see, there’s only so much creativity in the world, and most of it is in other people. So, if you have any ideas or suggestions, or any constructive criticism to put forward, screw you, do it on your own blog, we might not be creative, but we still are snooty.

P.P.S Please come this Festember, we're lonely. (Courtesy, fellow writer)"

Ha! That'll teach you to stifle free speech...