To WinnaCANNIBALipeg and BEYOND!!!! *splat!!!*

I have been having a DESPERATE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAST (*oprah*) being BACH in Winnipeg!!!!! I mean, not taking into account that more people than ever before are aiming at my ham-hocks and trying to relieve me of them, stuff me full of chocolate and treat to fatten me up, and then, nibble little bits and pieces of me as I go zwiddling desperately past them, ham-hocks-a-blur!!!

And as per typicule, it tickles me senseless whenever those of us from the Faculty can get together in a sort of reunion. Unfortunately, we did not have a RETREAT! RETREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAT!!!!!! this year, but whenever we have seen each other, it is as if we were never apart! Case in point, last night!

I gave a free concert last night at Knox United Church to promote my new CD, "Sound an Alarm!" http://www.cdbaby.com/williamsonsmyth and to raise funds for the church. It was so good to see Cleopas, Jeanette, Percy and Desiree, and Keisha. Just as I was about to sing, I saw a beam of light wash over the sanctuary, and I realized that a very glowing, and yet again, obviously pregnant Rossweisse had entered the room, practically floating, as if she was being wafted by little cherubs to her seat. And sitting next to her was Arnold, who I was so tickled to see come after what he has been through recently.

Just as I opened my mouth to sing, about one-third of the audience reached into their satchels, and threw apples, aimed supposedly at my mouth! One of them landed in there. So I figured, "Oh how sweet! They want to feed me again!" So I ate (pronounced 'ETTE') the apple and then began singing. Then, they all reached into their satchels again and pulled out what looked like serviettes, cutlery, crockery, spices, trussing cord, and, peanut butter?? It became apparent to me that this was NOT going to go down well! I got the impression that they all responded to my advertising campaign, where I had to stand in the street, and show some ham-hock, and shake my back bacon just to put the scent in the air to attract them to attend my concert. It backfired!!! They thought they were all coming to DINNER!!!!

Fortunately for me, I got the idea from a very annoying person on facebook (thank you!) to come prepared! I swung by a farming tools store and got myself two rather large, high capacity cattle prods, with holsters!!! And I made sure that they were strapped to my corpus and in view of the audience. As they rose from their seats to attempt to truss me to the spit they wheeled in the front door, I quickly whipped out the prods and knocked them together to show I meant business! And, I had the good sense to lock the choir entrance door in the back so that they could not grab me from behind and haul me away!!!

And with that, they sat back down, staring at me rather longingly, with drool dribbling down their chins, and realized that they'd have to settle for cookies and soda instead! All in all, it was a good evening, and I did manage to sell some CDs! The only thing I worry about now is when they listen to my CD they may associate it's music with dinner time! I'll be gone in a week, so I'll just have to keep looking over my shoulder round to make sure no one is nibbling away at any part of me. I thought being popular would be wonderful, but this is ridiculous!!!!

MOI

The wonders of Prescription DRUGS!!!

*skips daintily in* Now kids: Stay AWAY from using drugs, unless your Dr. tells you to!!!

Since the crash, a lot has happened! I have been submitting myself to being kneaded, pummeled, pin-cushioned, and threatened with more menu items being flung at MOI! I have been going to physiotherapy in other words, and I have been coping with quite a bit of pain from the impact.

So, I paid a visit to my neighbourhood shrink last week and flung myself upon his downy couch and allowed him limited access into my very sane and stable mind, to see if there is anything he can dredge up. Well, he must have dredged up something because I saw him shaking and popping a pill and washing it down with vodka, and when I was finished, he ran screaming from his surgery and is now into selling glass slippers out of a suitcase!

Before going stark raving mad, he did prescribe a sleep aid for me to take to help me get to sleep at night. Of course, I was skeptical about all of this at first, but I decided that it was time to wimp UP and take the pill!! So I did! It does help me to fall asleep quite well. It is while I am actually asleep that has me boggled!! I have the strangest dreams!!!

One night, while under the influence of this drug, I dreamt that I was on a hill side, with sheep, COUNTING them!!! I would start at the very beginning, which is a very good place to start, and then lose count, and have to start all over again! And every time I would start over, they would turn into LAMBSHANKS!!! So, to keep myself from thinking of mint jelly, I would walked away, and while doing so, fell off the mountain. The shepherdess tried to save me, but she was too late trying to undo one of her Princess Leia buns for me to hold on to, that it was just too late. So I fell into a tree.

Then, when I realized that I was sitting on the pointed edges of a pineapple, I squealed and sprang out of the bush, when I saw a lion charging toward me with mouth agape and daggers drawn! I closed my eyes, resigning to the thought that my ham-hocks were now on the menu, when just before he could eat me, while in mid-pounce, a gaggle of wonton belly-dancing hippos came flailing about gleefully pirouetting hither and thither, crushing the poor lion by knocking him out of mid air.

Then, I turned around and was grabbed by an amazon temptress, named Ertha, who shoved me into her bosoms and carried me off to her lair where I became the cute little butterball, tied to a stake, and slowly turning over a hot fire! Being hungry at this point, I ate the apple that was shoved into my mouth, and hypnotized some spiders to chew me loose. Then I escaped, on stilts and found a waterfall, where I ran smack into the nymphs and shepherds who were dancing in a ring and playing their little flutes and harps. When they saw me, they grinned, showing their fang-filled mouths, and invited me to lie down on a bed full of jelly beans and take a nap. When I refused to, they began shimmying their bosoms and started baking cakes at me, when I woke up!

I have since stopped taking this medication.

MOI

How to 'spot' a Jamaican

This was written by a Jamaican, and I just HAD to post it! Enjoy!

How to spot a Jamaican



It seems clear to me that Jamaicans are such a distinctive breed that one
should be able to spot them anywhere. Though we may resemble other persons
of African descent, Jamaicans (Jamaicanus Cantankerous is the Latin name for
the species) are easy to pick out if you know what to look for. But if you
have a particular interest in Jamaicans and are finding it difficult to spot
them outside of their "natural habitat" ( Jamaica ) here are a few pointers
for spotting Jamaicans in the "wild".
The first thing to do is to look for the obvious clues. If you're on a New
York subway going out for a late-evening drink, it should be obvious that
the Jamaican in the crowd is the young lady with the low cut blouse who has
covered her entire chest, from cleavage to neck, with baby powder.
And if you're on a street in Brixton and spot a lad strolling confidently
down the street in a knee-length, red, green and gold mesh marina, with
nothing but his scrawny, bare chest under it, then this gentleman is quite
likely a Jamaican. Similarly, if you spot a man, anywhere in the world, with
a white rag wrapped up and stuffed into his back pocket (where a person of
any other nationality would have placed a handkerchief) then this person is
a Jamaican. No question.
But these are the obvious physical clues. To conclusively identify a
Jamaican one needs to be acquainted with the more common behavioral traits
of the species.
But before we discuss these behavioral traits, a few words of advice. If you
are going "Jamaican-spotting" please do so from a distance. Jamaicans do not
like being followed or being stared at. Please also note that you risk a
violent confrontation if you approach a Jamaican suddenly. We don't like
being surprised. As far as we are concerned, only a duppy or a gunman would
approach an innocent person without warning. Finally, we would be grateful
if you avoid sharing these tips on Jamaican-spotting with members of the
FBI, DEA or US Customs/Immigration. Jamaicans living abroad have enough
problems as it is.
Now we can return to our discussion of those peculiar habits and behaviors
that set Jamaicans apart.
If you spot an elderly lady at the Airport check-in counter in Cayman, with
a suitcase the size of a fridge, which she has just "discovered" is 40
pounds overweight, then it's possible that this lady is Jamaican. If she
opens the suitcase to reveal large quantities of cornflakes, cooking oil and
flour then she is most likely a Jamaican. If she tries to persuade you to
carry her excess baggage to Jamaica in your luggage then she is definitely
Jamaican.

If you're sitting in a pub in London a few weeks before Christmas and you
spot a middle-aged gentleman standing in front of a television camera
sending "greetings" to Aunt Maude and Uncle Ferdie in Chalky Hill, then the
good gentleman is doubtlessly a Jamaican. Please buy him a white rum when
he's through.

Another easy way to identify a Jamaican is to observe persons when they are
angry. (Now, let's be clear here. We suggest you watch them when they are
angry. We don't suggest that you make them angry.) A Jamaican, when
angered, will invariably launch into an extended verbal tirade. Such tirades
have been known to last for as long as 45 minutes, during which time the
Jamaican will not pause to take a breath, will not let you respond and every
other word will end with "claat". (There are approximately 317 versions of
"claat" so don't be surprised if he never repeats himself even once). This
outburst may also be accompanied by frequent beating of the chest, "lapping
of the frocktail" and frequent requests that onlookers "hol' mi back before
mi do 'im supm". (i.e. "Restrain me before I do some serious bodily harm")
Please also note that it is not unknown for Jamaicans, when irate, to resort
to violence. So, as fascinating as it may be to watch, we don't suggest that
you stay to observe the outburst. Having established that your subject is
Jamaican we suggest that you leave the scene with as much haste as you can
possibly manage. Collateral damage is not an uncommon occurrence when a
Jamaican "kick-off" with somebody.

Another approach to Jamaican-spotting is to observe the habitat of the
individual you suspect to be Jamaican. If you are lucky enough to gain
access to the home of a Jamaican (known as his "ends" or "yaad") you may
find that the furniture (five years after it was purchased) is still covered
in plastic. Similarly, the carpet on the floor may be covered by plastic
walkways and there may well be a cabinet or "break-front" filled with enough
cheap crystal, bric-a-brac and china to completely outfit a duty-free store
in Montego Bay . If this is the case, you could very well be standing in the
dwelling of a bona fide Jamaican. Congratulations.
But how can we be sure that this is the home of a real Jamaican? If you
notice that the home has a backyard the size of a welcome mat, despite
which, every inch of same has been planted with callaloo, yam, banana and
gungo peas then this could be the home of a Jamaican. It might be noted that
an authentic Jamaican, being of a naturally hospitable and friendly
disposition, will very likely invite any visitor to his home to stay for
dinner so that he can taste the produce of the "farm". That visitor should
make very sure his stomach is empty. His Jamaican host will ply him with
large quantities of rice and peas, fricasseed chicken, and boiled ground
provisions and will deeply offended if his guest doesn't eat every morsel
thereof. That guest need not be ashamed to ask for seconds. For a Jamaican
this is just proof of the quality of the meal and will certainly bring a
smile to his face. On the departure of the guest, you may notice that his
host will insist that he take a little callaloo, a few pounds of yam and a
hand of bananas with him. If you observe this happening, then you have
definitely found the genuine article - a "real-real" Jamaican.

As you continue to observe your Jamaican you will discover other traits.
Jamaicans are the kind of people who, after living in a foreign country for
only three weeks, can tell you exactly where to buy a tin of Milo , a bottle
of Grace Tomato ketchup and a good draw of weed; all within three blocks of
the spot on which you are standing.
That same fellow will live in "farin" for the next 60 years and, having
reached the age of 92 and having raised his children and grandchildren
there, will tell you with absolute sincerity that he is going back home
"next year". And when he gets home he plans to retire to a little cottage in
Clarendon in the backyard of which he plans to grow. You guessed it.
callaloo, yam, banana and gungo peas.

The REAL Martyrs!!!

So, you think you all have it rough? You think you have heard it all, seen it all, processed it all??! Well think again! In all my years of blogging, I have constantly forgotten time and time again, who the real heroes are; who the real MARTYRS are! For all the time I spend dying, sighing, having slight excesses of emotion (as you all know by now how sane and well-adjusted a person I am!) and rare cases of flinging myself hither and thither about the place, I cannot compare to the sacrifices that these devices we take so much for granted have had to put up with... our computer devices!

Sheba, my lappy-top has been my faithful companion over the past 3 years! She never yells, or screams, or talks back to me. She quietly sits there, processing desperately away all the things I feed into her. No smoke, no grinding noise...just quietly churning away. Nothing I tell her ever throws her! She totally agrees with me that I am soooo NOT edible and has promised to defend me to her last kilobyte!!! She has been sniffed at, thrown about, trampled upon, fondled (not my MOI!), turned on, turned off, tickle-tortured, feather-dusted, and the ultimate of blasphemy, PLUGGED OUT!!!! But she is still chugging along.

Just think about it for a second. If our machines had minds of their own, what do you think they would do if given the chance? I think they would either run screaming into therapy for the rest of their hard drives, or tie us all up with their charging chords, put us into their storage bags, zip them shut tightly, and put us away for a very, very long time!!! They have to deal with things like, "OMG! Keep this on the DL! Maddison's gone AWOL with MJ, and I am so totally NDWT(not down with that)!!!" and "Dear Online Diary, MY LIFE SUUUUUUUCKS!!!!!! Why can't I get a ticket to the sold-out Justin Beesley concert!!? He's so dreamy! I am SOO gonna stalk him!! I am going to MAKE him love me!!! He's SOOOO gonna have my children!! This is SOOOO NC (not cool)!!!" and of course, chatrooms where you read, "G2G now! You log off first. No you first! No YOU first!! NOOOO! YoU 1st! No, u ferst!!! No you! No U! No you! No U....!!!!" And then that goes on for the next hour! See what I mean??

Not to mention, the amount of abuse! Whenever a significant other breaks up via e-mail, who do you think gets the first fall-out? When the stock market is not doing well when we get alerts on our i-phones and i-pads, who do you think gets flung on the ground and jumped on?? When a person is waiting for a life-changing phone call, who do you think gets to be stared at for hours on end, being yelled at and told to "RING, OR DIE!!!"??? And, where I come from, who do you think gets forgotten in the cleavage of someone's never-ending bosoms???? Hey! It has been known to happen!!!!

So take some time today to caress with fondness your PC or mobile device today. Speak gently to them and give them a nice hug. They put up with a lot more than we ever give them credit for and are worth more than their weight in gold!

MOI

I am concerned!

Over the last few years I have had to, on myriad occasions, stave off attacks upon my corpus, by those of you out there who insist on thinking that I am a gourmet menu item. All my efforts to dissuade you seem to be futile!

I have learned recently that some of you have sunk to a whole new low level of depravity! As I was giddily minding my own business, I was informed by more than one of you that a company has risen up against me, called JABACON and other Williamson Products, Inc. I am not making this up you know, and to prove it, THEY EVEN HAVE A FACEBOOK PAGE COMMITTED TO IT!!!! The interesting thing to note about all of this is that I have never once been contacted about this, seeing that all the products are supposedly to come from different parts of my corpus, and therefore seem to be expected to co-operate with such nonsense!

Firstly, I am here to prove that all of this is a FRAUD!!! If you look at the picture on the front of that facebook page, you will note that there is a slab of red meat on the front, with good old Percy claiming that that cut came from MOI! That could NOT have come from me, because I have ham-hocks, not beef shanks! And also, as far as I can tell, I am still very much intact, and in possession of ALL of my pork!

Secondly, one of YOU (you were supposed to be my friends, by the way!) has placed an unscrupulous order for various choice cuts of me! Cuts like, my ham-hocks, pork butt roast, fat back, baby-back ribs, and my trotters! Also, a little birdie told me that someone is planning to harvest me for collagen for anti-wrinkle creams!!! I know that a few of you have been begging for a 'piece of me' but this is utterly ridiculous!!! I simply refuse to co-operate with this, and you are going to have to catch me, tie me down, gag me, and knock me senseless if you think you are going to have any success at this, and when I do not want to be caught, I will NOT be caught!!! And I DON'T want to be caught, so TOUGH BENUCHEES SISTER!!!

So, for your own good, I have placed a CAVEAT in this blog as well, similar to the one I placed of facebook. And I state: "I am NOT for consumption! You are all to refrain from any attempts to culinate me in ANY way, shape or form! Any violation of this caveat, will result in the following actions in this order. You will be declawed, bikini-waxed, neutered, pulverized and then dissolved! ALL companies formed with the intent of cooking, eating or selling ANY part/s of me MUST cease and desist immediately, or you WILL be reported to your mommies and be given thorough spankings!!!"

So, having stated that, I shall continue to go to the gym, and get my ham-hocks to become so tough and rubbery, even more so than before, and if this continues, I will threaten to do something else horrible! I will stop moisturizing!!! So they will be dry and tasteless as well! So there!!!

MOI

A Poem!

I AM GOING TO ‘SPANK’ YOU!

OOOOOOOOOO!!!!! You naughty, naughty, naughty, naughty
NAUGHTY LITTLE MINX YOU!!!!

If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times!
LEAVE IT ALONE! But you do not listen.
See what happens when you poke your nose
Where it does not belong?
Now I am going to have to ‘SPANK’ you!

After all the work we have done together,
You would ruin this marvellous creation,
All because you just could not contain yourself?
Now I am going to have to ‘SPANK’ you!

I begged, pleaded, threatened, even BRIBED you!
I even wrote you little sticky-notes
Encouraging you along the way
And now, we are back to square one!
You have given me no choice!
Now I am going to have to ‘SPANK’ you!

What a waste!
After the countless spools of thread!
The many knots, needles, fish-line,
Velcro fasteners, and even DUCT TAPE!!!
The many times I have had to truss you up
Like Sunday dinner just to get it right!
Well, I have had it!
Now I am going to have to ‘SPANK’ you!

All it took was one!
And that one led to two, then three,
Then...I am sure you’ve lost count by now!
The only thing I have left to say is:

“Honey, you need to find someone else
To alter that dress, cuz I’m out.
You’re out of time and up against a wall!!”

Thank the heavens for a good pair of SPANKS!
So you see, I did have to ‘SPANK’ you after all!

Written by Paul Williamson
2010 January 25

Malfunctioning UMBRELLA!!!!

So yesterday, I donned by flying suit, unfurled my newly starched cape, and opened my umbrella in order to take to the skies and make the journey back to Jamaica to see my family for Christmas. On the way, I kept thinking of what I was going to cook for Christmas dinner, seeing that I am again declining to offer myself as the main course!

I caught my connecting umbrella to Jamaica around 7:00PM. I got onboard and settled in for the flight. We left late due to luggage issues. While in flight, we had turbulence almost the entire way! During the flight, I heard God say to me that something going to happen but that I was going to be alright. So I began to pray. Not in a panic, just...pray. As the umbrella began to make its final approach, I noticed that we were still too high in the air for the actually landing. I expected the pilots to abort and try again. Oh yes. And it was raining cat, dogs, and chickens as well!!! As soon as we touched down, I knew that we would have had to overfly and make a second attempt, but the pilots tried instead to slow down, but it was too late. The umbrella overshot the runway and landed on the rocks by the shore of the Caribbean Sea.

The umbrella quickly filled up with gas fumes, but I was able to make a hasty exit, and was able to help others as well. So other than that quail's egg on my head, I am still alive and kicking, and grateful to God to be alive and kicking! Actually, I did a mini can-can routine this morning! However in the process, I stained my flying suit, and ripped my cape to shreds!!! Adn the umbrella! Well, let's just say we will have to be getting a new one, preferably one that is not nearly as cheeky and does not talk back.

I will have more to share later, but right now, I need a nap. So have a Jolly Christmas and a desperately FAB new year, and I look forward to seeing you back in T.O. when I get BACH!!!

MOI