Monday, 30 November 2009

Radio killed the telegram star, and so on

(above: Jose Ramon Nunes from Worstville, OH is an old-fashioned dressed Aryan-Hispanic-Jewish radio star in his state during the late 90s up until the present day. But a new invention threatens his somehow local fame: the odour-radio)  

Sometimes, when I'm not dealing in utterly legal sugar from Colombia or detaching limbs to people with my former Soviet friends as a hobby, I write some scripts for an interview show for the radio. There you go a bit:

(From Nigel Random, interviewer V Carol Oompa-Loompa, Santa Claus' Sleigh Mechanic)

N: Your two sons are wacky, aren’t they?

CO: What do you mean ‘wacky’?

N: Odd.

CO: They’re not odd at all, they’re 2 of them. 

Believe me, that's the most intelligent sketch in the whole programme. The rest of the jokes are about priests and rabbis, penises, Germans embarrassed of their own history, frontal nudity and Yorkshire rapists.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I once presented a talk show on a radio station but it was cancelled 15 seconds after it went on air. It was called 'I have evil prejudices against any gender, race, creed and nation. Swearing edition'."

Monday, 23 November 2009

New ethnic class in Britain

(above: when coming across that woman you shouldn't drive on: wait for green) 

When I was first arrested by the police because of my lack of English language skills and the embarrassment that would cause showing my passport*, I was given a form to fill in.

In this form there was a section called 'Ethnicity', in which I had to tick, as a Spaniard, 'Black Caribbean: Spanish'. But I found out that there was missing option that represents approximately such a significative part of British population: 'Orange British'.

I don't want to sound racist, but I will. Orange British -or Oranggers, in a more racist way- are invading this country. They are even more each year. They are taking our places in the beach and our shelves in cosmetic product corridors.

Remember: when an Orange British is approaching DUCK AND COVER.

*: Ignoring that I fell by chance onto an elderly woman back with a sharp 12-inch knife, that's racism.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "Nick Griffin is an orangger"


Monday, 16 November 2009

This is history!

(above: Gazza has a strong opinion on Americans)

That's the news, Ladies and Gentlemen. As an odd passport holder, I forgive you Brits! Never mind Gibraltar. Never mind the Anglo-Spanish war (1585-1604). Never mind Jonathan Woodgate.
Now it's time to keep together. This week's most relevant news is that by 2010 British Airways and Iberia (a Spanish company which owns some planes, even though in some summers we don't want to use them... can't be bothered) will merge to become one single company. BA will own 55% and Iberia 45% of shares. This means that you (we) British rule. Ipso facto, Iberia planes will have to fly on the left side of the air.
Fair enough. But now, our aim is beat those Americans. Now they think they're better than us. Of course, they've discovered large amounts water up there somewhere in the outer space. It doesn't impress me at all: if you go to Costa Brava, there's plenty of it as well and we discovered it in the late 60's.
But if they wanted to beat anyone, they've chosen the wrong enemy. Iberia has been working on a top secret project, and yet now Iberia will work hand in hand with British Airways we can reveal it. Iberia has been working on a rocket to beat the Americans. We are sending that rocket to the sun. But we won't get burnt, we're not fool. We're sending it at night.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "Is being dragged off from a pub considered as a journey?" 

Saturday, 14 November 2009

Getting employed in the media (or elsewhere, especially the media)

(above: A deep discussion about the Moral Imperative theory by Immanuel Kant in the university library. That's why the graduate on the left-hand side covers her mouth)

(Inside an office there is a job interview going on between a TV producer and a graduate)

TV PRODUCER: ... thank you Mr Graduate, that's been the interview. We'll try to keep in touch. Any questions?
GRADUATE: Yes, I've got one. What other ways are there to get a job in your TV? I'm not quite sure about my chances of getting in...
TV PRODUCER: Mmmh... you could have attended a 1-year training course on journalism or have worked on a local TV or radio station to gain experience in this field. But I must say that the way you tried is probably the best one to get in, even though most of your 'rivals' for the post did it as well. However, you are good. There's no doubt about it.
TV PRODUCER: Emh... can you now help me pull my trousers up? I'm getting old for this kind of job...

That's what's called 'Networking'.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "Wonder why I dropped out university and I got that same job in another TV..."

PS: This blog's crew (The Spanish One, The Welsh Patient and the monkey-scriptwriter who dated Madonna and claims to have seen UFOs) would like to apologise for this post. We are fully aware that we haven't even mentioned the position of the actors in the stage. You naughty readers!

Thursday, 12 November 2009

Fortnightly advice

(above: One person appearing in this photo told the other he has got loads of money. Guess who.)

Dear weak-minded and morally ambiguous readers,
Do you feel yourself just as a mean person on Earth? Are you unhappy with your life? No? Well, you should. There are hundreds (even tens) of people who are blatantly happier than you.

This blog, like the BBC, has got two main aims: take over the world and educate and entertain its audience.

Today, we are pointing out the second one. Every fortnight this blog's crew (i.e.: I myself, the Welsh Paitent -currently on a trip to foreign city of Bristol- and the monkey-scriptwriter who converted to Buddhism and got an IQ score of 145) will try to keep you readers such happy people in your pitiful lives. 

This fortnight's advice only consists a word of 3 letters: lie.

If you follow my advice, your life will improve in the short term. You can choose your life as you never imagined before. You can be whoever you always wanted to be. 

However, you will find (annoying and obnoxious) people who will keep telling you are doing the wrong thing by lying. When this happens, just tell them to lend you some money to invest in shares because you know the CEO of a very important company. If he agrees to give you the money, spend it in alcohol -or equivalent-. If in a month time he asks you how is his money going, show him fake graphics pointing up and tell him that still is not the time to take it out because the credit crunch is almost over.

Believe us, Wall Street works like this... 

No, I was lying. But follow my advice.

Blog Crew.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I followed this advice and then I invented Facebook, I wrote Wuthering Heights and I promised a tax rates decrease in general election" 

Wednesday, 11 November 2009

Message to children of the nation. "Beware, Christmas is among us"

(above: "Let's face it, right? Getting your parents divorced for Christmas is not THAT bad. You can get as twice as much")
*MATERIALISTIC CHRISTMAS VISION ALERT* (Wonder why I always write it too late...) 

Dear children of the nation:
First of all, I would like to apologise for the delay in writing this messsage. It has been two weeks since Halloween was over. This means that in a well-known supermarket chain whose name starts with a T and ends in an ESCO it is been two weeks since Christmas corridor was set up.

Therefore, children of the nation, it is Christmas. That supermarket chain, as we all know, is never wrong*, you must rely on this kind of companies: they want the best for you.

What does it mean, children of the nation? That means that from now on you must force your parents to go at least to 3 toy shops in order to choose your Christmas presents as soon as possible. In any case, if your parents oppose to this brillant suggestion you then should cry your heart out, shout at your mother and insult your father -tip: you can watch Supernanny episodes for a better performance-.

Then, when you eventually get your deserved prize of going to toy shops because of your reasonableness and your strong and sensible explanations why you wanted to go there, you must sit on Santa Claus' lap. Once you are there, don't ask for silly things such as the end of war or family health and/or happiness. Ask for wacky things such as a camel, a platinum handbag or 51% of shares of a Premiership football club.

Don't worry if you don't get any of those items you claimed for Christmas, don't get angry. Take legal action against both Santa Claus -for misleading advertising- and your parents -for not making you happy for Christmas-. With the money you can obtain from your legal proceedings you can get extra -and better- presents thus making you a happier child in this glorious country where I am staying illegally until I marry somebody national and divorce 2 weeks later.

Children: do it.

The Spanish One 

*It happens the same with Facebook, Microsoft, McDonald's, Coca-Cola and the US Government.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I was born in a test tube. For Christmas, I get presents from the donors, the doctor and the couple of part-time beekeepers who adopted me. I am probably the happiest person in the world."

Friday, 6 November 2009

Creepy translations: Mybreasts

(above: Jose Garcia -right- was last seen in with a man dressed up as Chewbacca before his corpse appeared in his apartment in Tampa Bay, FL.)

"Once upon a time there was a woman, called Mrs Scandinaviansupermodel, who had a dog called Mybreasts. Mrs Scandinaviansupermodel said to herself: 'I feel like taking Mybreasts for a walk'. 
The woman was so consequent to her thoughts that she indeed took Mybreasts for a walk. She went to the closest park to her home and, at some point, her dog got away. Then, Mrs Scandinaviansupermodel went to the nearest police officer to report the loss of her hound. 
'Excuse me, Mr Officer, have you seen Mybreasts?', asked the woman.
'No, but I would like to', replied the Officer."

(above: "Have you seen my breasts?" "Mmm, look at the dog kennel..."

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I had a Belgian shepherd. Nice guy..."

Thursday, 5 November 2009

Top 5 sentences you MUST say to a German of the opposite sex (or if you are homosexual... you know what I mean)

(above: Such big... jugs? Oh, you're drinking beer as well!)
*MALE CHAUVINISM ALERT* (cr*p! just wrote it too late!)

Everyone knows that flirting with foreign people is really demanding. You have to know loads and loads of factors when approaching a man (if you are a woman or a male homosexual or a man who has suffered several surgery operations) or a woman (if you are the rest of people not noted before) from a foreign country.
In this blog, we (me and my monkey-scriptwriter who smokes big amounts of cigarettes and speaks French) are very concerned with main needs of living beings, i.e.: being born, growing, reproducing and dying.
Today, we are dealing with the third one. To do so, we are giving out 5 quotes you MUST say when facing a German (which as we all know, are from Germany) to break the ice.

5. "Hi, I'm Abraham! NO, don't put me into a gas chamber!" 'Abraham' can be swapped for 'Chartered accountant' or 'Harry Potter'
4. "Der wer zwei peanuts valking down the strasse, und denn von vas assaulted... peanut. Ho! Ho! Ho!" (c) 1969 Monty Python's Flying Circus
3. "I had a house in Berlin: it had 5 walls." That used to be top 1 before 1989. 
2. "Ich bin ein fauler Hodensack." Literal translation: "I'm in love with you, darling"
1. "Do you want to see a proper Bratwurst?". This sentence is only applicable to men and/or special women.

If you can't get it done with those tips then you are a racist, have prejudice towards foreigners and stereotype nationalities.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "In Barcelona that's easier: just give her a tenner"