I see where the editor of the Reporter was tripping all over her or himself trying to justify PM Barrow’s huge slap in our face, choosing the USA over Belize for his wedding.
On the matter of choosing a spouse, the Reporter editor said, get this, this is a personal and private matter for the bride and the groom and their families. Private and personal matter my foot! Private and personal is the bias that swayed an editorialist to write such a wimpy story. Shame.
When a politician goes to the polls, the wife or husband is a part of the deal. What if the PM’s wife has fifth columnist lineage? No deal. What if the wife is a casino fiend? Voters would be well advised to be very cautious about such a ticket. You have to know whose vault account the loving hubby PM will turn to, to cover spiraling Black Jack debts racked up at the Princess. What if the loving wife is a clotheshorse? Can you see the burden on all of us poor brothers as our women try to keep up with the new Lady Jones on the PM’s arm? You know that 900 shoes weren’t enough for Imelda Marcos, tru?
How smart of the PM to sneak a spouse by the electorate, getting married AFTER the elections, eh. Oh, the sycophants can holler that Miss Kim is on the up and up. That is not the point. We are talking “precedent” here. PM Barrow opened the gates: now every Tom, Dick, and Harry politician can escape the scrutiny at the polls by marrying afta wi done cast wi votes. It’s our damned business who the PM marries, Mr. or Miss Reporter editor! And it’s our damned business where he chooses to get married, too.
If he was for real, the PM would have married Miss Kim at Trapiche, or at San Ignacio Hotel. What, did he feel that all of us would have poured down at the reception with our mouths wide open begging food and rum? Life haad out ya, but we’re not that hungry, and thirsty, Mr. PM. I am sure his young bride would have wanted to put on her ring in The Jewel. Kim is a people person (check out the kinds of charities she is involved with), so the fault here, without the shadow of a doubt, is all H. Barrow’s. I say, it is very consistent with his spots.
This heartless decision (it will surely come back to haunt him) is just one in a long line of these creatures pulled out of the dark lagoon in front of his Buttonwood Bay palace. Can you believe he had the face to tell Ms. Phyllis and Miss Gwen that last Settlement Day was his very first in Dangriga! What they say: better to keep your mouth shet, or lie. (The wise old leader of the last administration explained it so well even regular we understood, why sometimes a leader has to ehm…lie).
If he had kept his mouth zipped, no one would have known that our beloved PM had never punta’d, not even as a boy, in the Kolcha Capital. I bet he has slapped palms in OW on Columbus Day, though. And no one has to ask where he is at on September 10. The biggest grin among the flag waving red-shirted colonial L&POB crowd on that day, is his. We are British, Yes we are. Hurray for the Baymen!
But back to this wedding that so hat wi feelings. My goodness, the sneak of the Reporter editor! The editor, stone high on his or her special favoritism potion (a good bet he/she was among the chosen), thinks us quaint, for wanting our PM to tie the knot on our shores, yap! and lashes out viciously at anyone who would dare suggest that a Belize PM MUST marry a local sweets. But you know exactly where they are angling here. It’s a post pre-emptive (now that PM Barrow’s decision to take his cake and run off has awakened long sleeping dogs) to cover the backsides of H. Manuel Esquivel and H. Said Musa, PMs who turned their stuffy noses in the air at sweet Belizean creams and went ferreting da foreign for their better halves. Which reminds me, can anyone forget that hypocrite H. Musa, who, after sneezing at us, had the brass to lecture we that “television (foreign ways) is worse than an army of ten thousand.” Nobody listened to him. Everybody gone out and buy tee-vee.
Of course, H. George would have none of it…Couldn’t trust that precious secrets of the Independence movement would reach British ears (brutal British ears) by way of a gossiping wife, so he didn’t marry any. It’s wisdom you know. H. George got almost 30 years of unbroken rule. Everybody else is 5 years…and out!
Incredibly, after the national insult, the PM’s newspaper ran a whopping full page on the gala affair in Savannah. (Has anyone heard about “class” here? You don’t walk on the faces of people you have just snubbed down! Please!) Wow, see Senator Juliet, and UDP Secretary General, Mrs. Phillipa, the in crowd, all dressed up and happy, after quaffing champagne from fine crystal da foreign. And Mr. Jules Vasquez, soaking wet…I really hope you paid for that plane ticket out of your own pocket, sir. Things haad kraas ya!
Hn, for a man as eloquent as PM Barrow, his mouth gets him into trouble a lot. Just the other day he told Mose on the KREM WuB morning show …that he is not a Fish Person! Dang it, I bet H. George Price is a Fish Person. I bet H. Manuel Esquivel is a Fish Person too. As for H. Said, you just look at that brother and know he’s got coconut oil all over his fingers when he is eating corn fish. Wa! Noh eat fish, Braa?
He’ll want to be PM again. Everybody da Belize know that da noh oanli one time monki waahn wife, excuse mi. We’ll be waiting. He’ll come to the gate, all humble and so forth, begging us to let him run things again. The first question we’ll ask is: fish? or pork meat? He better study his answer well.
On your own
A lady read a poem about the pain in a woman’s most private part during childbirth (KREM Sunday Review). Another woman remarked about how wonderful a nauseating verse…that the dad with a ring in his nose was there, to witness the woman going thru this very rough experience. One woman said that not all women want their man to be there. (Bully for that) They all slapped palms for men who want to be there with their women.
How thoughtless! The male job is to be attracted, interested, so we fulfill the “need” to plant the seed. Girls, after witnessing such trauma is it such a reach for you to comprehend that sane men might become a little shy about entering “vagina” after that?
Wiser heads, from olden times, knew that properly, this was time for the midwife. Out of the wild blue foreign comes this sicko idea that we should be there to see the baby baahn. Well, you can go on, modern women, go on and attack our manhood to push your wild ideas. Yap, color us…”not man enough.” We put in our pound; wait on you hand and foot during the long, drawn out pregnancy. When you go into labor…sorry, you are on your own.