Shades of Ringu! A mysterious rash of mobile phone calls from 14 digit numbers in Eastern India have the mobile-bearing populace panicked. Upon receiving a call from a caller who is rumored to be Satan himself, those who answer are finding themselves ill. Eyes-bleeding, vomiting up spaghetti-like entrails, their symptoms soon lead to sweet and merciful death, the hell to which they’re sent seeming like heaven compared to what has come before.
This article on India’s rising obesity epidemic (partially due to the in-flux of cheap Western fast food) is sure to make you hungry. We’re tempted, in fact, to simply blockquote every time the writer succulently describes some sweet, sticky indulgence gobbled up by New Delhi’s swelling armada of obese Hindis. Apparently, it is very common for Indians to snack on “‘skim’ milk with the thickness of cream” and “muffins the size of a baby’s head” or “desserts with names such as “double excess chocolate mousse” and “penalty.”” My god, it’s full of stars. Gastronomists: time to move to India.