Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Iraq and other warzones

It would be the height of ingratitude to turn upon my hosts for last weekend and in any way criticise them on this public forum, so please understand that the following is written with my usual care and compassion.

Many of you have been concerned about the absence of dear Tom from the blogging community these few weeks. I am happy to report that following my visit he is on the mend and may appear here again one day. I cannot divulge the methods and techniques that I used upon him, but suffice it to say that when I left, I think I detected the return of the smile to his wizened face, and we can all pray that he will soon be able to return to sophisticated society.

The highlight, at least from Tom’s point of view, of my visit to Dartmoor, was the visit to "the chair". I will return to that shortly, but for those folk from foreign climes who read this stuff, if you substitute the word “Alabama” for “Devon” or “Dartmoor”, you may get some sense of how those parts differ from the rest of the country.

It is very nice that the people of the moors are able to show their progress into the modern world in such quaint ways. Many of us would feel that we were vacationing on Craggy Island should we be offered a trip to “the chair”, but I recognise the importance of fostering positive self image in those less fortunate. I did not even mention that I have several chairs in my house, and some of them have been there for quite a long time. I am not one given to promoting my own achievements.

I can confirm that someone in their attempt to improve upon what God has created has put a chair in a field in Dartmoor. I refer you to the title of this journal.

*******

Many of you will be familiar with the kind of spam illustrated below:

Good day to you,
I am Mrs. Silifat Al-Fayadh , wife of Late Sheikh Dhari Ali Al-Fayadh (Prominent Member, Iraqi House of Assembly ).
I have a business obsure for you.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Silifat Al-Fayadh

I, however, am tempted to reply. The lady should be told about the cruel trick her parents played upon her. She must have avoided the playground and probably found no solace until her marriage. Then her husband dies. I am not sure what obsure means. I hope she does not mean obese.

11 comments:

Richard said...

I think Mrs Silifat is probably one of Tom's Second Life aliases.

I won't point out the typo. Mind you, I don't think it matters because nobody appears to be about anyway.

Vicus Scurra said...

I blame myself, Richard, for being negligent in posting. I have fixed a typo, not sure whether it was the one you found.

Richard said...

Yes, you've fixed it. It can be our little secret.

granny p said...

My obscure business would be much more worth your while, Vicus. Do be much more tempted to reply. (But minus the comments on my parentage or my husband....please)

I, like the view said...

how do you get spam like that?

I've got spam envy

Ms FnPness said...

did you sit it in? I hope it wasn't plugged in.

I have to come here after work now you rude git and I can't even see anything rude . . .

I think you should tell us where Tom has been and why and who with and all his secrets - there's little else of interest to read on here, although your spam's good.

Reg Pither said...

You are missing a great opportunity if you don't reply to this kind of mail.
I get loads of it, nearly all from Africa, and as a result am looking forward to an early and prosperous retirement.
To date I have sent £200 to some bloke in Kenya who is, apparently, my mother and has promised to leave me everything in his will, £340 to a nice chap in Tanzania who asked for the cash to cover postage and packing for £1 million he is going to send me and £1,000 to a Mr Bob Mugabe in Zimbabwe to invest in some new system he has invented for cleansing whites in his country (or from his country, I forget now).
Yours,
Ayam Soocha Phuqwheet.

homo escapeons said...

I found the muzak on Mrs. Silifat (Sindy) Fayadh's telephone message qite entertaining..

"Hey Mr. Taliban, come tally me banana.
Say, Silifat come an' me wanna go home.
Obsure people come an' play on the piano.
Daylight come an' me wanna go home.

((cymbal crash))

Yes, we gotta no banana
No banana
We gotta no banana today.
I sella you no banana.
Hey, Mr Talibana, you gotta no banana?
Why this man, he no believe-a what I say.

Hey, Mr Talibana
You gotta piana
Yes, banana, no
No, yes, no bananas today
We gotta no bananas.
Yes, we gotta no bananas today."

ziggi said...

that HE - he's wasted on here

Vicus Scurra said...

This thread is getting too silly. Mrs Silifat is probably sulking. Me too. I am not going to let any of you have here email address.

Pamela said...

come tally me banana..

That sounds oddly....dirty to me for some reason.

vicus, I could tell you where Tommy has been and just why he's smiling right now, but you'd spoil it all and blog post about it. We'll keep it our little secret for now.