Nerdom Circle.

SUBSTANTIAL TIME AGO:
Generally, as a crude American- I tried to get my hand on any piece of Indian or Arabian music I can get my hands on (still do actually). The melodies are entirely strange to me but uniquely beautiful.

One man in particular- Daler Mehndi, stood out.
I had read somewhere that he was regarded as the Madonna of India. I was awe stuck by this comment and immediately looked for everything I could about this singer. I was able to get a few crappy .mpg music videos and some audio tracks at the time but I would watch/ listen to them all the time. My mother, who thankfully was very tolerant of my ability to listen to the same song 20+ times in a row, can attest to this.

SUBSTANTIAL BUT NOT AS LONG AS THE PREVIOUS PARAGRAPH TIME AGO:
I had just fallen in love with the Blood Elves in 'Warcraft 3: Frozen Throne' when they had announced 'World of Warcraft'. The believe the very first statement I muttered in response to the news is "All I'm ever going to do is play a Blood Elf!"
Alas, later it was revealed that the Blood Elves were not in the playable races. Alas, I was forced to play my "awe-shume" Night Elf Rogue.

MUCH CLOSER TO THE PRESENT DAY BUT NOT RECENTLY:
The World of Warcraft expansion news is announced and Blood Elves. From this, I no longer really look at any new news about the expansion. For the simple reason, that everything else to me seems pale in comparison.

RECENTLY:
The Draenei are revealed to be the new Alliance Race. Which is cool, but at this point I'm still not dissuaded from playing a Blood Elf. That was, until my manager showed me that the Draenei males dance like Daler Mehndi. My response was "That man gets more play in an hour then I will in my entire life."

Now, do I enact out my fantasy to play a Blood Elf that has been on the backburner for years now?
Or do I play a Draenei because Tunak Tunak Tun is SO awesome?

Click here first.

Then click here.


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Random note:
I get off the train yesterday, making my way to class.
About ten feet ahead of me, three feet to the right- an absolutely gorgeous brunette woman is making her way through Chicago. Now, I didn't look too long- lest my mortal eyes would be destroyed in a whirlwind of divine fervor. Simply put, very very lovely.
To my immediate right, was the dirty old man. Not a dirty old man, THE dirty old man. Now, I must describe to you what the quintessential dirty old man looked like. He had a toupee, the reddish brown curls did not blend with his grey/ white hair that dotted the back of his head and his ears. His front of his chest was open, to reveal the bleached lion's mane that was his chest hair. The chest hair itself, could barely contain the large gold medallion that dangled off a large golden chain necklace. His arms were adorned with a multitude of gold and silver bracelets and rings, all fighting against the long silvery arm hair they rested on. On his left arm, two gold watches. I guess for the simple reason that time was money, must be doubly so for him. And the pants... we'll, let's just simply say that they were quite 60's.
The dirty old man stared directly at the woman's derriere. I immediately tried slowing down or speeding up, yet the old man stayed to my immediate right. Making me a culprit by proxy.
The girl turns around and looks and shoots the dirty old man a very disgusted look. He looks up, and the two make eye contact. The dirty old man then continues staring at her inappropriately.

I think that makes him my hero.