Out Loud And Proud

Weyhey! Its official. I'm a Shining Example and I've got the Rudolph Reindeer nose to prove it! What can I say. I'm a polished drinker! I didnt score 100% cos I didnt know what gaelic football was (an Irish euphemism for taking part in group orgies?) and I didnt tick the box saying "not sure I believe in God but I believe in the infallibility of the Pope". Oh thats such bloody Irish logic for you isnt it? Well, fook! If Gawd became ay mun, then ay mun sure as fook can becum ay gawd, doont ya tink? I LOVE BEING 85% Irish (according to above test which is giving my 50% Maltese genes a good floundering!). I'm at risk of soon becoming 100% Irish which really wont leave the Maltese locals too alarmed - they wont notice the difference cos the bloody Maltese are SO Irish themselves! I've always maintained they're two peas from the same space pod. I swear they're two tribes descended from Cain (or whichever son it was that introduced the idea of human culling). Before I give the link to where I got this exciting test, here's some of the questions I had to answer:

You started preparing for St. Patricks Day in February (waaaa? not quite!-I started preparing from April 2005!)

You think Guinness should be in its own food group (not only that; it should be marketed as recommended baby food-c'mon if Mummies are advised to drink Guinness, you cant be depriving dark-brew addict babbies after they're launched from the mothership)

You swear well (fookin hayl too roight! wanna see may credenshuls?)

You think you sing very well (indeed, and I can actually sing in several languages after the 3rd round;after the 5th round my memory-bank reserves kick in and I can sing the entire Book Of Genesis...backwards)

You're oddly poetic after a few beers (see above)

The further from Ireland you get, the more Irish you get (weeelll no shit Sherlock! I was 50% Irish at birth; since my roamin' in the gloamin' around the world in my amphibious sofa, I am now several decades later officially 85% Irish! I've done my bit for Ireland in many an ex-British colonial outpost pub, by shutting the place down)

There wasn't a huge difference between your last wake and your last keg party (well frankly, why should there be a difference? We wake up from one feeling like death...We probably will feel the same with the other!)

And here's is an illustration of the term: OXYMORON (no, not quite "bovine idiot", but close!)

“ I have cometh to tell you your time is up..” – Wait! You’re not Ann Robinson by any chance? My you look very different on TV….Shorter. Yes, that’s it. Shorter. So, The Weakest Link is making house calls now? Arent you working back-asswards though? You cant kick me off without asking me some questions! Ask me a question.

"I am The Grim Reaper! Show me some respect!" Hmm you're not only an Ann Robinson lookalike idiot but an idiot with anger-control management problems. I said A QUESTION! "...uhh how many Irishmen does it take to change a lightbulb?" Ok! Now we're getting the idea. Bit old but very fitting for St.Patrick's Day. Ha ha! You must be blind drunk Paddy...you should be in GREEN not black! Throw me another question. "

Is it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?" Ha ha. Good one! Black humour. Very Irish. Ok, here's one for you: What is an enema? "uhhh...Someone who is not your friend." Incorrect. Try this for size. What is a vacuum? "A large empty space where the Pope lives." Nope. Sorry Mr. Gryme O'Rapper.. YOU are the Weakest Link. Goodbye!

Bastard! Those are my laugh lines.

My "Give us This Day Our Daily Gin" quote:
Blessed are they who can laugh at themselves for they shall never cease to be amused.

(ps. for those interested, dedicated roadside shrines are easy to come by in Malta. First, rent a Piaggio....Or if not interested, do as I do:

Quite frankly, I think this breed, the Maltese Dog, should be listed as Afghans That Got Shrunk In The Wash. I frequently observe Sunday Strollers on the Promenade with these minute furballs attached to a leash and ask myself, what the hell is the point? Wanna dog? Then get the real thing. A dog that looks like a domesticated squirrel isn’t the real thing! Get an illustrated dictionary, idiot! You want something

that fits neatly in your lap and makes you feel loved?Buy a willy-warmer! (Get some from this chap - since he apparently modelled for the Luqa Roundabout Phallic Monument, dont order anything less than extra-large; you can also get sheep-skin lined ones here)

The Maltese take their religion seriously - they even have a Confirmation ceremony for their dogs. Actually these dogs do reflect many attributes of the Maltese people: plenty of facial hair, vertically challenged (i.e. short), very loud for their size.....oh and adorable (when they get their way).

Out Loud And Proud says: "If you're not living in the fast lane, you're taking up too much space!"

no-bid contract, suggests "former" Halliburton CEO Dick Cheney. Yeah! Much simpler idea. I like simple ideas. They're the only things that make sense to me.
So the U.S. generously re-builds Iraq. But the bloody ungrateful Iraqis arent buying it. Sectarian strife breaks out like a bad case of psoriasis. Uh oh. This wasnt planned. Its gonna fuck up our PLAN C. What is PLAN C? Wholesale conversion of Iraqis to Presbyterianism with the aid of fastfood vouchers? Nooooo. PLAN C is to INVADE IRAN! But why? WHY? Cos I dont like 'em - they aint fromTexas. Whats more they're planning to screw up the petrodollar just like Saddam did, by tradin' their oil with the euro . Bastards. We had it all neatly laid out on our Monopoly Board (Pentagon version) that by 2005 we would have established the Presbyterian State of Irak and then cooked up some baloney to justify bombing Iran! All is not lost (except our credibility as a champion of democracy).

We can still cook up some baloney "High Security Threats"...we're good at it. Ha! Ha! Saddam, WE TOO have WMDs.....they're called Weapons of Mass Deception! So, lets see. Well after the Iraq debacle, (daabaagle? wa tha hayl's thayt anyway Deekie? anudder type o' bagle?),we cant exactly peg Iran as another WMD outlet. But wait! I have an idea! Its ingenious in its simplicity! (Security Council hurriedly pull out pad and pen to take notes on Bush's NEW GREAT IDEA-The Sequel). Ok, we blame Iran for the bagle in Iraq! We find evidence that the weapons used by Iraqi insurgents are supplied by Iran! Yeaaah. Ok still following me? Its real simple but the spelling's a bit complicated. Thats why I dont read from cue cards. We heighten Iran's terrorist profile and that will make it easier for us to insist that Iran stops its evidently aggressive nuclear program. If they dont, we bomb 'em. Back to Plan 2004: "Operation Pulverise The Persian Pricks".

But Pakistan has a nuclear program..why arent you going after them? Two reasons, dork. They dont got no oil. Secondly, they been giving us information about Iran. They been helping us to sneak into Iran and in exchange we gave their naughty Nuclear scientist suspected-nuclear-black-market trader A.Q.Khan indemnity from international tribunals.

Any other great ideas Mr. Anti-Terrorism President? Yeah, kill Michael Moore and Alan Jones. And get me my buddy Shaikh Mohamed bin Zayed bin Maktoom bin Dubai on the line...I gotta anudder great plan.........

Well, not completely. I do have moments of seriousness (usually in my sleep). You see, I’m obsessively interested in lexicology. No, idiot, not sexicology (which I might add I am supremely qualified in).Lexicology: the study of words. You know, those monosyllabic expressions you spit out when the Maltese utility bills with added 67% fuel surcharge arrive? So, I’m curious: where the heck did the British “SPEND A PENNY” originate from? To those uneducated in the official version of Her Glorious Majesty’s English (Americans pay attention), it means “take a piss”. Politely. Oh my pilgrim possums of the American Prairies, you may well ask how does one take a piss politely? After a lot of practice, that’s how. (Best results achieved when practiced at British Boot Camp Boarding Schools of which I am a sterling graduate). Unfortunately, right now I can’t conduct research to provide myself (and any other unemployed good-for-nothing idiots who might be reading this) with an answer, because I don’t have access to the internet or to my voluminous library of reference books (because I’m locked in the garden shed ok? Because I been a bad girl ok? Fuck off, we’re no way near to being on a need to know basis…). Was the phrase coined….oooh *screech!screech!* wadda pun! jeez I’m so clever with words I could slap myself with a lamb shank! You too? Get in line…. Beetch!. Ahem.…*adjusting wig after heated gesticulating and subsequent falling off chair---makes mental note to next time buy chair with seatbelt*, so…was the phrase “SPEND A PENNY”…umm…penned…by the British Great Train Robbers who, after conducting the biggest robbery in British crime history, had to swallow some of their loot to hide it?

Other deeply meaningful quests I’m on…...a search for the source of the Maltese language. Judging from its interesting phonetics, I reckon it all started with a bunch of miscreant babbies who’d been rounded up and locked in a pen by their Phoenician Mammies and told they better give their Mammies a bloody good reason to justify their sodding existence or they’d be fed to the One-Eyed Monster over in Greece. So, the bunch of devious delinquents held an Extra-Ordinary Meeting in their pig pen and decided to invent their own secret code to spite the Mammies. And the Maltese language was born. Take for example babby sounding words like: deek and dak and deen, bot bot, bish and biss and omm and bizza. But their true genius revealed itself when they wrote their newly invented words down on their compressed palettes of pig poo.

Lets fast forward to the present to demonstrate their inspired genius. I am escorting a hapless American tourist to Malta’s Main Tourist Crafts Village (housed in a field of dilapidated abandoned WW2 British tin bunkers which the government has ensured retains its authentic dilapidated bombed-out appearance…makes the Brits feel nostalgic; makes the Germans squirm; makes the Yanks wash their hands before and after entering). The hand-painted sign reads: TA’QALI Craft Village. “Oh” says tourist, quick nervous glance at sign, “so this is…uh…the Tequila Craft Village?” That silent “Q”, which is peppered throughout the language, has tripped up many a hapless American who is accustomed to (read more….go on..I dare you..)

What the blazes do people think they’re doing when they write daily blow-by-blow blog dairies?? Weblogs may have started as electronic diaries for the Lonely Heart Clubbers who were friendless cos everything that had a pulse would run for cover whenever they opened their gobs. But by now, with the plethora of highly talented highly amusing highly informative blogs (mine immediately springs to mind), surely the rest should have gotten fried in the current blogexplosion? Obviously not. Like cockroaches, they can probably even survive nuclear wars.

This online phenomenon of the resilient Dead Boring Blog (which is, incredible but true, actually popular) is much like the other incredible-but-true fantastically popular phenomenon of TV programmes based on the formula of “now you just sit there for an hour with eyes glued to the box watching while a bunch of useless previously unemployable idiots get paid to be locked up in an apartment to chat and fart and sleep and chat some more and squabble and go back to sleep, sometimes in each others’ beds”. Then when the groupie drama in an apartment becomes a bit thin, they move the whole frigging bunch of gormless idiots to a deserted island to practice their urban survival skills. Shame they didn’t choose one of those Polynesian islands where the French used to test their nuclear warheads. Fry the bloody attention-seeking whores. Woohoo now that wouldn’t half send these shows’ TV ratings skyrocketing.

It might be a bit difficult to drum up a new team of idiotic participants. But then the U.S. Marines Recruitment Office hasn’t entirely run aground in getting more jugheads to join up for the noble quest of putting their lives on the line in order to bring law and order to Iraq (if that’s really the U.S.’s intention). So, chances are idiot people might be tempted to sign up to replace the fried non-survivors of the last Survivor series. There they go thinking: anything to get their 15 minutes of fame, even if it’s the last 15 minutes of their lives. Poor pathetic sods. Describing them as people capable of thinking is stretching it a bit.

Here in Malta we have not escaped this pandemic of idiocy. “L-Ispjun” (Spying) is the latest hot item on our TV channels. Considering the standards of local TV programming, it is actually a step up in quality. Jeez doesn’t that say it all about Maltese TV! The show evidently runs on a shoestring budget judging by the shitty apartment they’re holed up in, and the funniest part is that “L’Ispjun” airs on PBS, the government-owned TV channel -oh didn’t you know? The whole friggin’ island is going broke, except of course the MPs and the families and friends of the MPs, and the butt-kissing cronies of the MPs – ALL of whom will probably be part of a massive airlift to some Caribbean haven (where Idi Amin and other despots are hiding out) when wholesale rioting breaks out because bread has become more expensive than last year’s parking fine.

What does the ongoing success of Big Brother and its Reality TV whoring spawns say about Western societies? Bored, that’s what. Bored voyeuristic societies which must find Sesame Street intellectually challenging. At least I can safely say I wont and I don’t ever whore myself even when I do, cos when I slut my stuff on my blog I’m not getting paid for it!

"Give us this day our daily Gin" quote: Who is General Failure and why is he reading my hard disk??

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NEWS UPDATE NEWS UPDATE NEWS UPDATE NEWS UPDATE

In Germany, where the first case of a cat dying from Bird Flu has been reported, locals are concerned. “We’re scared for our cats”, said one scared for her cat woman on EuroNews. “How can we detect the symptoms in our cats?” Idiot. Isn’t it obvious? High fever, sore throat, sneezing, runny nose, flying about in disoriented circles…But what I am really curious about is how do these bloody birds do cross-country flights when they’ve got flu? For gawds sake, I could hardly get from bed to ensuite bathroom when I was down with flu recently. I nearly died but I did’t grab EU headlines. And one stupid cat does. And Stupid Cat died cos it probably ate a dead duck and couldn’t be fagged to stir-fry it first. Asked about the implications of this new development, a French git authority on the subject observed:“noo soms blah blah sons sett notre blah blah je ne sez kwot pas duh mez je pence blah blah ki keska malad est maladorious” (English voiceover: “it’s a real problem; we may have to live with it for years.”). These people actually get paid to make these observations?? Its like, oh we ordinary plebs are such dim idiots we really needed you to enlighten us. We haven’t been taking it seriously cos we reckoned Bush would deal with it swiftly, effectively, diplomatically-he and Don Cheney would occupy Europe and shoot everything that moved.

Its like the recent poll on BBC News which revealed that 60% of people surveyed in 35 countries felt that invading Iraq was a mistake….What?? Surely not.Must all be spineless Liberal pussies who don’t understand that the world needs champions like Bush to invade and subdue turbulent Third World countries full of ignorant non-Americans; hunt and kill dictators who dare to run Top-Secret Factories engaged in the mass-production of Aspirin; bring the Good News of democracy and civic freedom to raghead idiot natives who eat with their fingers …But I’m mostly interested in the other 40% who still believe the Iraqi invasion is a Damn Good Idea. Real freedom-fighting patriots, like the Iraqi-based U.S. troops whom I saw last night on EuroNews applauding Bush while he delivered his “Visiting My Loyal Jugheads” speech ,when he said “..the uther message wayr sendin’ is tha’ we Mericunts dawn’t jes’ cut ‘n run…”. These poor troopers aren’t only bloody big jugheads, they don’t have a drop of juice in their jugs! Now Iraq is inexorably disintegrating into another Lebanon-style civil war. Oh dear, means we Mericunts might have to postpone withdrawal; keep the jugheads Over There and not bring ‘em Back Here to the street-gang-petty-criminal-infested Projects where they were first recruited.

Geezus…Europe’s all in a flux about a potentially uncontrollable Bird flu pandemic while for years there’s been one great big Turkey in the White House whose gung-ho politics are more likely to bring about mass mayhem than any migrating flock of sneezing birds ever could!

My "Give Us This Day our Daily Gin" quote: Death is hereditary.