Tandove

The heading might sound like the product of a microwaved pigeon, but it's not. That much is obvious. It's more an Anglicization of the Taandav, which happens to be the final dance before the world bakes in a blaze of glory. We're only human. We like pre-heating our ovens to set temperatures. Only, the oven is 12756.1 kms wide - end to end. That was the diameter of the earth and it referred to global warming. Only this post is about neither the earth nor global warming. I'm not even sure what this is about.

But this heat is more of the sparking variety that comes when you pull out wires in a rage of composed frustration. You know, when the internet isn't working, when the wires are tangled and you suspect it might have something to do with not tipping the telephone guy when he came traipsing last time around wearing an expression similar to a voyeuristic teenage boy.

And I know what that expression resembles, so there.

Bottomline: If you're hopping mad, don't dance. Chances are you'll step on a few toes with your two left feet. And if it's anyone of consequence, you'll have two toes left. My internet is sucky, can you tell?