Google+ Followers

Saturday, 10 January 2009


As usual I am surrounded by bits of paper, post it notes, paper napkins and other items used to jot down insane ideas born out of boredom or hysteria. I'm thinking of starting a newspaper called The Good News and can't believe one doesn't already exist. I'd like to see Parents Right To Smack and Other Drugs as a headline.

On the subject of news I saw my phizog staring out from one of the pages of the local rag. A girl had stopped me in the street the previous day and asked me if I thought the sales this year were more aggressive than last year's. I thought about how much fun I could have if I told her a load of porkies, like how I had come all the way from England to do my Christmas shopping for next year but one must be careful in a small town where everyone knows you and so it was to Henderson's relief that my mug wasn't accompanied by some mad spiel. I'm glad they got the bit about me being a Londoner right as the Spanish can not carry on with anything until they have pigeonholed you. I'm surprised they didn't ask me whether I was a Catholic Londoner or a Sikh but they probably haven't heard of the latter anyway.

The news here tells me a council worker was arrested when it was discovered he was cultivating sixty three marihuana plants in the council's warehouse. This seems tame compared to the one working for Norwich council who turfed a load of pensioners out of their cheap housing so she and her cronies could move in and reduced the rent.

Still with the news. I am not sure exactly what is happening to the man who claimed he shot and killed the mayor of one of the villages up in them there hills and then said he didn't, that he didn't mean what he'd said and was trying to take the edge off things or something like that. I need to check this one out as it 'aint over yet. I might be imagining the other bit of news but I am sure that whenever the paper mentions unemployment and its rise it is always with the same photo of a couple of men of north African origin drinking beer in a cafe. I have seen a photo of men outside the dole office with the words ' a group of foreigners'. I am sure I am repeating myself but I guess I should be grateful my photo didn't have something similar written underneath it.

There is a Brit who lives in Barcelona who might represent Spain in the Eurovision. I remember being in a bar a couple of years ago and being teased because Britain had come last. The Spanish didn't understand when I told them I was delighted with the result as I thought that was the whole point.

Lastly, and it hasn't made news yet and I hope it won't but Piti the Priapic Poodle has been more than his skittish self today and has been getting worse since we arrived home last Monday and is on the brink of becoming The Dead Poodle sketch. I mentioned this to Mercedes who told me there hasn't been a peep out of him since we've been away, never mind that she wouldn't know as he only howls when she's out and if she did have the balls to ask anyone if he's been up to his antics they would only utter 'noooooooooo'.

No comments: