Big OUCH and one tight slap

The husband and I were riding through the NH 24 last evening. As Sri was trying to avoid riding alongside a UP transport bus (spitting, puking passengers + mad crazy drivers = stay away), we noticed a couple of teenagers flying kites alongside the highway.
I saw sri waving his hand across his face and the next instant something sharp cut across my face.
It was the string or maanja from the kites.

It hurt big time, but we couldn't stop to see how bad it was / to squash the idiotic brainless morons who were responsible for it. It burned like hell (God knows what they put in maanja these days, I know glass used to be one ingredient earlier). Got home and cleaned it with dettol then went and got a tetanus shot.

So here I am today, with a slash across the jaw line starting from mid chin to an inch past my left ear. Bloody ugly mean looking thing.

Mugs asked if it looks like grilled chicken, I told her it looks like someone took a dagger to me.
She thinks that sounds glamorous.
I think the look goes with the new fancy dress I picked yesterday.
Bold and the beautiful wot?

On the side note, if I ever catch sight of anyone flying a kite anywhere near a busy road, the person is going to be roadkill.

Poetry in motion?

I am not a football fan. Inspite of coming from a sports crazy (which essentially means cricket and football) family. My father, brother and sister in law follow their respective teams obsessively.
Me? The only two footballers whose name I remember is Pele and Maradona. One because I was asked a GK question (Black pearl = who?) and the other because my brother went on and on and on about the "hand of God".

Zizou ... Beckham ... Rooney ... Ronaldo ... huh?

I have a vague recollection of rooting for Cameroon, sometime way back. Don't ask me why. I cannot remember.

Now though, I think I want Holland to win. Ekdum dil se, dil se want to win.

Because when they are on the field, they remind of Nagpur ka Santra Barfi.
Anything THAT orange, gets my vote.