Wednesday Ramblings

How exciting to read that this esteemed newspaper has resorted to a competition in order to keep its front page slogans going!

We can only assume that the mail bags must be overflowing by now with submissions from “name and address provided.”

And we suspect that when it comes time to hand over the prize the lucky winners will have to be photographed with a black bag over their heads, not too unlike an al Qaeda beheading, and then driven directly to the airport. Can the subscription be sent to Canadian readers with refugee status?

Such is the climate of fear in this country at the moment. Even Freddie can’t begin to describe the paranoia stalking his beloved land where the people both weep and laugh in appreciation of the tragi-comic essence of their history.

But we must speak out. In the spirit of supporting this noble newspaper against the slanderous attacks from political hobgoblins who spend their work days writing trash and their nights receiving lap dances at Brazilian strip bars:

“If Buddy can get taxpayer’s money so should this newspaper”

“Our circulation was not built on dead bodies and soft pedaling bad news about the government”

“We showed our audited circulation. Now you show us yours.”

“Let the unmentionable rag kiss A$$ for Ad $$$

“If it’s about value for money why is the Chronic with a circulation of less than 6000 getting ads?”

“This space has been left blank because the layout girl screwed up”

“Janet, you go girl!”

“Who the f&*$ reads the Chronic anyway?”

Rip van Greene

Police Commissioner Greene needs to be awarded the Rip van Winkle of Guyana Prize. Apparently he has been fast asleep in his office for the first ten months of the year, snoring away and dreaming of a happy retirement, while outside 177 people were being mown down, crushed, drowned, torn apart, had their heads ripped off, you name it, on the nation’s roads. Then with 22 dead in a couple of weeks and the politicians getting all nervous (“Wahhh! They might start blaming us!) somebody gives him a swift kick in his pants and like some hibernating cartoon bear he wakes up! “Mmmm Honey