Sneer at the ´Curse of Bates´ at your peril! Regular readers will have no doubt read the vitriol that has been expended on local media that won´t come clean on their circulations and/or produce ´editorial´ by Polly Filler with the sole intention of taking money off advertisers. Well, the long battle with the local ´weakly´, ´The Reader´ has ended; they have finally hit the loo blue.
On another occasion, ´the curse´ was mercifully swift; ´Ken and Barbie´ (which I mentioned in my last rantings) of the spectacularly awful ´The Entertainer´ seem to have disappeared, presumably up their own Arslikhan prose.
Well not actually disappeared as such, an even worse fate; they now appear to be reduced to supplying pics for what has been cruelly described as ´God´s waiting room gazette´ edited by, ´The Lash´!
Word has it however that the ´mismanagement´ of ´The R.I.P. Reader´ will be joining forces (perhaps weaknesses would be a better word) with ´The Entertainer´. This, I look forward to see. Presumably they are going to try to disprove that minus one plus minus one equals more than minus two! Silk purses and sow’s ears come to mind.
Continuing on the media scene the boss is a bit peeved about his involvement in the new publication, ´The Mediterranean Yacht Planners Guide´ where he wrote a bit of blurb about the Balearic Islands in exchange for an advertisement.
Having received a copy, in the ´Mallorca´ section there are no less than 16 mistakes of one sort or another. Don´t think he´ll be participating in the 2003 edition if it ever sees the light of day again!
Now, on a more serious note here´s some vital information- It´s a staggering thought, but the average man will spend 145 days of his life shaving and remove around 25 metres of beard from his face; now you know!
Well the Empress of Calvia has come up with another wheeze to extract more money to shore up the squandermania of her council. Parking metres! Almost overnight the blue lines were slapped down and the machines put in; 30 cents per half hour. The locals are livid; I can see the sales of superglue going up!
Now here´s a serious bit of advice regarding the IAE tax (business activity tax). Through painful experience I would suggest that everybody makes sure that they are in the best ´economic group´ (groupo/epigrafe) possible. Recently by asking around I have managed (legally) to cut my contribution to this particular tax in half!
Now pay attention chaps! If you own 16 pairs of underpants, 22 pairs of socks, 15 ´casual´ tops and 6 pairs of trousers according to a survey by the ´bloke´s bible´, GQ magazine you are your ´average man´. Oh also, you´re overweight, have sex twice a week using your 7 inch willy (angry size) managing to perform for exactly three minutes, one second. Who replies to these surveys? Sad ****ards I would say.
Those of you who have got ´posh cars´ should skip this next piece!
On the farm lived a chicken and a horse, both of which loved to play together. One day, the two were playing when the horse fell into a bog and began to sink. Scared for his life, the horse whinnied for the chicken to go get the farmer for help! Off the chicken ran, back to the farm. Arriving at the farm, he searched and searched for the farmer, but to no avail, for he had gone to town with the only tractor. Running around, the chicken spied the farmer´s new Z3 series BMW. Finding the keys inside, the chicken sped off with a length of rope, hoping he still had time to save his friend´s life. Back at the bog, the horse was surprised, but happy, to see the chicken arrive in the shiny BMW, and he managed to get a hold of the loop of rope the chicken tossed to him. After tying the other end to the rear bumper of the farmer´s car, the chicken then drove slowly forward and, with the aid of the powerful car, rescued the horse! Happy and proud, the chicken drove the BMW back to the farmhouse, and the farmer was none the wiser when he returned. The friendship between the two animals was cemented: best buddies, best pals. A few weeks later, the chicken fell into a mud pit, and soon, he too, began to sink and cried out to the horse to save his life! The horse thought a moment, walked over, and straddled the large puddle. Looking underneath, he told the chicken to grab his "thing" and he would then lift him out of the pit. The chicken got a good grip, and the horse pulled him up and out, saving his life.
The moral of the story?
When you´re hung like a horse, you don´t need a flash motor to pick up chicks.
With all the crass comments during the world cup I thought you might like a series of ´commentary cock-ups´ from other sports and occasions.
Michael Buerk watching Phillipa Forrester cuddle a male astronomer for warmth during BBC1´s eclipse coverage remarked: "They seem cold out there, they´re rubbing each other and he´s come in his shorts."
Here is Ken Brown commentating on golfer Nick Faldo and his caddie Fanny
Sunneson lining-up shots at the Scottish Open: "Some weeks Nick likes to use Fanny, other weeks he prefers to do it by himself."
Mike Hallett discussing missed snooker shots on Sky Sports:
"Stephen Hendry jumps on Steve Davis´s misses every chance he gets."
Jack Burnicle was talking about Colin Edwards´ tyres on World Superbikes:
"Colin had a hard on in practice earlier, and I bet he
wished he had a hard on now."
Winning Post´s Stewart Machin commentating on jockey Tony McCoy´s formidable lead: "Tony has a quick look between his legs and likes what he sees."
Ross King discussing relays with champion runner Phil Redmond: "Well Phil, tell us about your amazing third leg."
During the 1989 British Masters golf tournament, commentator Richie Benaud observed: "Notices are appearing at courses telling golfers not to lick their balls on the green."
Clair Frisby talking about a jumbo hot dog on Look North said: "There´s nothing like a big hot sausage inside you on a cold night like this."
James Allen interviewing Ralf Schumacher at a Grand Prix, asked: "What does it feel like being rammed up the backside by Barrichello?"
Steve Ryder covering the US Masters: "Ballesteros felt much better today after a 69."
Carenza Lewis about finding food in the Middle Ages on Time Team Live said: "You´d eat beaver if you could get it."
On a serious note I was sent part of the YBDSA newsletter relating to the MCA.
Firstly they seem to be on the warpath and are planning to have 4 members of their staff dedicated to dealing with prosecutions for code infringements.
Further they warn that a separate EU Maritime Safety Agency is being set up to police member states´ compliance with EC rulings.
I know for a fact that recently several ´Red Duster´ yachts here in Mallorca were boarded and inspected by the MCA (which they have every right to) but believe everything was found to be OK. You have been warned!
A little bird tells me that as the end of the concession looms for Club de Vela Andratx, there are some strange happenings occurring. Apparently at least one local has made an offer to buy a berth from a current owner, knowing full well that the end of concession is nigh. Knowing the canny Mallorquins this may sound strange; but perhaps not. If you read the interview on page 4 you will see that anyone who is a registered ´user´ before the cut off date will be given the continued right to use it.
The wrinkle is that the ´powers that be´ for some reason have differentiated between 12 metre and 12 metre plus moorings. This has yet to be explained - we hope to bring you chapter and verse in the next issue.
Lastly for those of you who wonder how ´fortunate´ yacht brokers in Monaco (no names, no pack drill!) fill their day, this was sent to me by one recently via email:
A duck walks into a pub and says to the barman:
"Got any bread?"
Barman says: "No."
Duck says: "Got any bread?"
Barman says: "No, none!"
Duck says: "Got any bread?"
Barman says: "No, we *f**king haven´t got any f**king bread."
Duck says: "Got any bread?"
Barman says: "No, are you deaf? We haven´t got any f**king bread! Ask me again and I´ll nail your f**king beak to the bar, you irritating bast**d bird!"
Duck says: "Got any nails?"
Barman says: "No."
Duck says: " Thought so. Got any bread?"
Until next month.
Master Bates