Demagogy for Dummies

(above: he wanted to keep his identity unknown, but he asked for an anonymising line that matched his -horrible- glasses)

First of all, dear readers: Merry Christmas, you thick!

Since we're really close to a new year and a new decade, I've decided to carry out some changes in my life*. One of those is changing my personality. I don't know, I think that my personality in the nineties (90s) and in the noughties (00s) has been really un-rock-star-ish. That's why my personality during this brand-new decade will be more rock-star-ish, i.e.: more similar to a rock star personality.

To get started I'll write my first rock-star demagogic speech:

'Oi! You [insert your city name here]! You are the most rocking city in [insert your area/country/shire/neighbourhood here]! This war is entirely our fault! We throw those bombs! Mind the environment, you polluters in the Army! Al Gore is God! Microsoft is Evil! Own a wind farm! We are destroying Africa with our pollution! Put large amounts of currency into my NGO's bank account, this will be helpful for this planet somehow! GEORGE-BUSH-BARACK-OBAMA, YOU DON'T MAKE ME GO BANANA!'

Mmmh... I reckon I'll stay with my current personality. Being a rock star is very demanding: setting up NGOs, helping charities, taking drugs, shagging groupies, pub brawls, swearing...

I think I'll forget about being a rock star and start writing and playing some music instead.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I used to be in a punk band in the early 80s. It was called Following the Law. Our first single was 'Obey The Rules, It's Worth It'. The first lines were: 'Obey the rules, it's worth it/ Get a job, you lazy youngster!/ Maggie is right, mines should close down!...' Good old times."  

*: Next person who says 'Things change like people' will get some dents on his face.

Top 5 last sentences in last dates

(above: tip #1: don't show her your 'My Documents' folder during the first date)

5- 'Keep your crotch off here!'. Tip: Don't fix a Twister game in a date.

4- 'My face is up here!'. Before the date let her know you are eye-crossed. 

3- 'Well, I ate a salad and drank one glass of tap water. You ate 3 lobsters, 2 bottles of champagne and caviar with platinum stuffing. Are you sure we should go halves with the bill?' If you already planned this as your second-to-last date you could reach an agreement. 40%-60% would be a great deal.

 

2- '"I love you, Maria Dolores"? Incidentally, my name is not Maria Dolores but Teresa Maria'. Not many pets are called Maria Dolores, thus is difficult to mend. 

1- 'When you eat ham, is it considered to be cannibalism?' Too subtle. You'd never get that one. 

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "The last sentence I was told in my last date was: 'Why aren't you wearing any clothes from your waist down?'"  

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'."

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"

 

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?" 

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.

(SILENCE) 

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!

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" 

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."

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..."

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"

Communist Party!

(above: "C'mon comrades! Let's pin the bag with the dollar sign to the industrial bourgeois!")

"m8 im throwin a party n me house, well its not me house, its the state's :P u joinin?iosif"

"alright thn! who lse cummin? xoxo karl"

"tere's u, me n me housem8s vlad fidel mao. they cool!xxx iosif"

"mikhail not cummin? nice 1! fookin hate im... 2 liberalisin! n whats mo tht spot on his head's so ennoyin :) karl"

"omg karl! mikhail got me state computer 2 chek his fb n saw th msg! :( u btter apologise.iosif"

"o shite! so mbarrased...tell im were kmrades 4eva ;) karl"

Eventually, Mikhail didn't show up. He was in charge of the food... gutted. That party's such a FAIL!

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I went to the conservative party. Was boring. Just cared about economical elites. Good canapes though."

 

  

Reproducing reproductive system (Act 1)

(above: "Who's thick?")

(It was a sunny day. Inside a class a teacher is teaching his pupils a lesson on the reproductive system)

TEACHER: ... this way the baby is born and then you have to bear the boy until he is 35. So, that's all for reproductive system. And now...

PUPIL #1: (to pupil #2) Hey! You scrotum!

PUPIL #2: (to pupil #1) You spermatozoid!

PUPIL #1: (to pupil #2) You Fallopian tube!

PUPIL #2: (to pupil #1) You ovum!

PUPIL #1: (to pupil #2) You vas deferens!

TEACHER: (to both) SHUT UP, YOU C**TS! (Silence) Don't take notes of this!

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I love alternative theatre".

Top 5 things I have been told because of my odd passport

(above: that's what you call in Latin Anus Horribilis)

The audience is wondering 'Why only 5?'. The answer is pretty easy: I don't want to be sued by David Letterman -mostly now when he is being a bit 'courted' (get the pun? no? then it's my fault)-.

5. "Are you Spanish? Seriously? Your skin is white..."

4. " - Where about in Spain then?

      - Girona?

      - ...

      - Barcelona?

      - ...

      - Lloret de Mar?

      - Awww! I see. Cool.

    - Well, some people think that Catalonia (the region (?) where I live) is not Spain. That comes from centuries ago when...

      - Oi! I got it. Alright? Don't mess with it."

3. "I loooooove paella". You mean you want me to cook you some? Or you wanted to say 'you' instead of 'paella'? If second, there you go my phone number.

2. "How would you say in Spanish 'At what time arrives the train?'". I swear that happened. It was this morning in Cardiff City Centre. It's OK if you ask me for that if you are close to a train station in Spain or in Central and South America, not if you are in a crowded high street and trying to explain you are an ecologist from Friends of the Earth.

1. "HAHAHA! No. Now seriously. Where are you from?"

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "Do you want some leeks?"

I love it and they will as well

BEING RUDE TO ELDERLY PEOPLE

(above: "Look Mildred, my arthritis is getting better than yours". "I know we married 70 years ago but I must confess something, Nigel: I'm a man". "Yes, so?")

Usually, elderly people have lived loads of things during his (loooooong) life. Most of those really hard to put up with (e.g.: World Wars, Postwar, Benidorm...). That's why they love being insulted and receive rude feedback to their thoughts. Actually, in continental Europe the vast majority of governments and the EU fund projects to enhance this lack of rudeness to elderly people. But Britain is different indeed.

The main purpose of this post is give some tips to reach this European average.

"Shut up, you rubbish!" when discussing about politics.

"Shut up, you scum!" when discussing about religion.

From this point, your relationship with elderly people just can get better.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "Shut up, you blogger!"

about me...

When I set this blog up thought that the best way to introduce me to blogosphere was writing some (un)interesting facts about my relationship between the net and me.

- Somebody tagged me on a photo: turned out it wasn't me but anyway, according to Facebook I went to that party and I had a good time. Facebook CAN'T be wrong.

- I joined "I loved 21st November 1994 because something good happened to me" group (and I still don't regret about doing it).

- I commented on "Leave Britney Alone!" video by writing: "Leave Britney Alone! LOL".

- I poked M**** E**** and M**** E**** poked me back.

- I rated the video with a monkey pissing on his own mouth 5*. I found it hilarious.

- 3 months ago I realised how good Michael Jackson was and I downloaded Thriller and Billie Jean. If you haven't listened to them, you should.

I can't complain about my life. I feel special.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: "I feel special ROTFLMAO".