An NRI (Non-Resident-Indian) bimbo, or perhaps by now an American passport holder bimbo, with the feminist-approved-two-suffix-name of Priya-Alika Elias, tries her hand at writing the effluvia coming out of her self-hating hamster.
We knew it wouldn’t be the first time she was penning down some bullshit, and a cursory google search did not disappoint. One of her past tweets stated: “Kickstarter for making white men extinct.” Ho ho ho. What a cunt.
But that tweet is gonna haunt her for the rest of her life. Thank you archive.org!
In an essay titled “No Indian Friends“, she goes on a self-serving harangue about her Indian-ness, and her rejection of Indians from her social circle when she was in college. And then about her later realization that no, some things in Indian culture are so “beautiful”: like “Namaste” and touching elders’ feet.
Can someone be more self-obsessed and narcissistic than this? That their greeting and respecting others is more about how “beautiful” the culture is or how it makes them feel?
Why are we not surprised?
Here’s how she looks, and remember she’s Indian:
Bimbos from India feel especially good when they move to a licentious society like the US. Now they can finally swallow boatloads of beer and jizz and let their pussies get rammed by all the cock, and only non-Indian cock, that was so denied to them by their sensible, conservative parents and the “patriarchal” society.
Here are some of her reasons for not wanting to wear a sari:
You have to walk a little more slowly in saris, and be a little more careful not to trip. At parties, you skip the third beer to avoid the jumpsuits-in-the-bathroom situation.
Yes, wearing a sari probably means you cannot get shit-faced at parties.
But more than that, it is her obvious shame at being brown skinned. She calls herself a “coconut”:
“Uh, it’s when you’re brown on the outside, but white on the inside. See? Like a coconut.”
We stand enlightened.
Also, Indian men who might be thinking of marrying such creatures, beware. They have a very low opinion of you and your family. Doesn’t matter if you are highly educated, they look down upon you as not worthy of them because you are not as tall as the non-Indian badboyz they have sucked and fucked.
… non-blood relations you have to call ‘Aunty’ tell you about their son, who is always, always five feet nine inches and “studying to be a doctor at the NYU.”
In a later series of posts we will go over the AF/BB strategy of these sluts. All Indian men need to know what they are potentially dealing when they attempt to marry an Indian woman living abroad.
And she has been educated by television. Her points of reference are TV shows and movies and stand-up comedians:
> The eternal Kumar of Harold and Kumar.
> You have a handful of reference points: Aziz Ansari, MIA, that guy from Lost, Bobby Jindal. Kal Penn. Mindy Kaling, who has gone on record saying she doesn’t think of herself as an “Indian comic.”
> I’m thinking of stand-up comedian Russell Peters
A lot in her article is pointless drivel about me, me me.
> I still refuse to wear saris.
> Black Forest cake, my favourite dessert
> I watched my first Bollywood movie with a white friend on a night when we had nothing better to do.
What else can we expect from a woman who has been fed a steady diet of junk food on TV?
What’s the hidden point of her essay? Like a postmodern critic, we can detect the theme even though she herself might be oblivious to it: Slut it up and act western when Indian-ness would hold you back, and start cherishing the “beauty” of Namaste and Ragas and Yoga when it is time to get off the cock carousel and trap a typical Indian beta.
I’m thinking of my boyfriend telling the maître d’ “The reservation’s under Nick” when his name was Nikhil.
Haha, poor sucker takes (or took) her to dinner dates.
“Nick” should have listened to da one and only GBFM’s legendary ode: The One Cock Rule.