Little Red Riding Hood...defamiliarised

Lil’ Red Riding Hood was walking through the woods and decided to sit down on a log to send her mate a text.
Along came Wolf and sat down beside her.
“Whassup”
“Whassup”
“Get up to anything last night?”
“Na, was over at me mate’s and we got absolutely locked. Am still a bit rough. You out last night?”
“Was over at the witch’s place. She took out a bottle o’ Tullamore and you can imagine the rest. Was out clubbin’ at the weekend wi’ the mates and Sammy almost got into a happy-slappin’ session with one o’ dem lumberjacks. Think somebody’s already posted it on the Internet”
“Was that yer man, the same bloak that was hittin’ on Gretel down at Angel’s, Saturday night? Could’ve shot him. He’s got the missus an' kids at home an’all… Wha’ a nerve…”
“He’ll get his comeuppance, nae worries. So, you over to Granny’s?”
“Yea, just bringing her the messages. What you up to?”
“Over to the city council to draw me dole. Wanker’s have cut it again. Am down to 100 Bob a week. Just about pays the bleedin’ rent.”
“Yea, what’s the new buzzword they use? Rationalisation? Ma’s and Gran’s welfare’s been cut as well and now I’m down working at the witch’s sister’s shop after school just to make ends meet.”
“And what about yer Da?”
“He was laid off down at the woodmill. The sector’s been hit hard and now he’s nae payin’ up anymore. Heard Hansel and Gretel’s Pa lost his job too.”
“God, where are we headin’ like this… Just get yer bleedin’ exams girl! Only way outta this rut for ya. Times aren’t the way they used to be when I was a cub. Well I’d better be off then. You goin’ out tonight?”
“Might be over at Gran’s for a game o’ poker later. Call over if ya feel like it.”
“Rightio. Catch ya later over at Gran’s then.”
“Bye…”

Buy it, strip it, flip it...

Hedgefond managers can rest assured. The G7/8 conference in Essen, Germany, has merely rocked their boats with a "new" financial buzzword: transparency.
As Germany has the presidency, not only of the EU but also of the G7/8, it has a bloody hard time achieving unanimity across the board, and yet a harder time taming the hedgefond sharks from the Anglo-Saxon business world, with their operational centres in London and the Big Apple and their offshore accounts on the Cayman Islands.
Although scepticism is propagating slowly but surely, the hedgefonds' glorified tactics seem pretty effective. They go to work during a currency's deflation, stabilising the exchange rate and with complicated financial structures alleviate banks of high-risk investments, allowing the latter to safely continue with handing out credits and loans to all Toms, Dicks, and Harrys. This supposedly drives consumerism and business and lowers unemployment. Yea, sure.
In the end hedgefonds are nothing but forms of immediate gratification (a symptom of the present era) or even ticking time-bombs that may still set off a catastrophic chain reaction (may I remind of LTCM in 1998?)
Transparency is just a necessary beginning...

Black is back

Is Obama white or black? Who the hell cares! He's a serious challenger to the Bushian and imminent doomsday machine. Announcing his candidature in front of the old parliament in Springfield (long live the Simpsons - one can't help asking where Springfield begins and ends) was of course well advised by his Westwing-Josh-Lyman-Toby-Ziegler-style spin doctors. Here good 'ol Abraham had once made his declaration of love to all colours, shapes and sizes. Yes, he can be "all for all" according to Frank Rich, a blogger and columnist who sees Bush as a "leader".

No, he's not black enough for us, say representatives of the the Afro-American contingent. "I love the brother" says Debra Dickerson "but we have nothing in common".
So what about Hillary. No, let's...hmmm... who the hell should we vote for? There's only the Reps left... There doesn't seem to be any problems re. cultural heritage, origin, philosophy, language etc. over on that side of the field... No reference to the term "West African slaves" or to "third generation American".

The founding fathers of the 60's black liberation movement, Jesse, Al Sharpton, Ron Walters et al. haven't much to say about Obama really, have they? On the contrary. Plus Obama in his recent bestseller "The Audacity of Hope" (does he mean recklessness or bravery?) seems to denounce those times and the "dramas of the baby-boom generation" (sic).
So when Dickerson negates Obamas "blackness" and yet declares her readiness to "adopt him" you can't help the sense of tongue-in-cheek. She maintains a clear difference between "black Africans" of the 1st, 2nd or 3rd gen, and real "Afro-Americans".
Maureen Dowd sees Obama as floating between the white and black polit-world, especially linguistically, depending on where he's speaking.

Caught in a cliché-trap, the noose is tightening around Obama's neck, with party-people saying things like he's the first "mainstream Afro-American candidate that is articulate, clever, clean and good-looking".

More to this in the comments...

Love is in the air

Sent a few "secret-admirer" Valentine poems to meself, as a warming-up for Wednesday (or for the sake of being 11 again...):

Roses are red
Violets are blue
The world is round
And so are you

Roses are red
Trees are green
When I see you
I feel a pain in my....

Violets are blue
Roses are red
God, am I tired
I'm off to bed

And I got this one from my Catwoman friend Mary:

Heartland is red
And the coast states are blue,
But politics
Is still full of pooh.

Make love not war,
It can be said,
Remains a good motto
To take to bed.

Burma Shave

Walking the thin line of life

5 nurses have paid dearly for practising an altruistic profession in a country where altruism is no more than a necessary evil...Where altruistic people are misunderstood and looked upon as if they were from Mars...Where altruistic people are easy scape goats, scape goats for past national defeats and humiliation. One such humiliation was a Scottish one that cost lots of innocent lives plus Libya 4billion dollars - exactly the amount that a chichi court in Tripoli has asked for, for the nurses collective bail that is. A last attempt at Gaddafi-esque national redemption?
Meanwhile an aged and bitterly poor mother back in Bulgaria asks why she let her daughter go on a year's work placement to a country, just like any other, where well-meaning people are growing old prematurely while waiting for their Kafkaesque sentences.

The Premeditated Pizza

The young lad with the milky face, God luv him, looks like he's about keel over in front of me. Bus is nearly there, man! Get up! Power of the mind...hhmmmmmm...
But no, he's nodding away, poor child. School sucked the life o' him. More gel in his hair than hair itself so you can see the scalp all around. Protest Boardwear™. Trendy an'all.
Ok, back to thinking about the meeting wi' the missus this afternoon. Nice restaurant. Great food. Croatian bangers and mash. Better than the ones back home. More taste. And a portion of Austro-Hungarian Sauerkraut...
"The customs official was simply being recalcitrant. Pure extortion if you ask me. Asking that kinda money for the import duty of a private painting!" I says to her, downing my second Zlatorog Pivo.
"I'm sorry but I told you this would happen. It's the way it is here. Old red tape left over from empire. Why, you could be dealing with art on the black market, who knows you know. They always have hypothetical arguments in store."
"I'm simply getting my sister's painting, which she painted at the innocent age of 18, to the safety of our flat. It has her name on it and she also sent the value estimation - summing up the cheap canvas and frame and oil paint. But nothing's enough for those guys. They're always making up something to get money out of you."
"By the way, there's pizza in the oven for you when you get home. You know what to do in exchange don't you?" "Yes of course, darling I know..."

Spoiler warning: plot and/or ending details follow

Watch those carbon footprints mate! We don't wanna erase any smoking guns, especially while my edge bleeds and my lips Botox. Our neighbour's already been to the Anti-Social Behaviour Office and I've been blue-skying and thinking out of the box to the point of frazzling my bloatware. Those bookcrossers keep crossing my path but I can't seem to chill. My bro's been boomeranging and coolhunting but he always fails to do what it says on the tin. Quit cybersquatting Dude, and start designing your babies! Get the fucking furkids off the green concrete for once and for all!! You've been handing-me-up everything I own man!..You've even got it down to a science, kipper! I've had enough of your ladette and lit-pop chums. I'm off mystery shopping with me petrolhead mates. My frustration has ratcheted and I'm trying to regroup before going for a repêchage at this stage. I feel I can't rely on my silver surfer spin-outs any more, verstehst? Everybody's supersizing the big apple and all that's left to me is the Boston Matrix. It's a try-and-buy life where tyrekickers rule! Don't miss the walking bus or the White Van Man will get ye with his wetware seeped in Ritter Sport, petrolstation booze and red bull... But it's not over till the fat lady sings...

The travellog of a female mind

Leaving the house - Taxi driver a tad late, bye mummy and cat
Buying knickers coz got none with me
Meeting Koraljka at Zagreb airport, duty free, she buys a silk scarf for teacher of her son...bribing (or better still: emotional blackmail) for good marks...
WizzAir flight - some British, Croat male arguing with gay Hungarian skycap because of order rejection and menu item not being available...low fare airlines - globalization at its best...
Luton - Drunk British, filling in data about Gabe who's waiting in Galway - "Where are u going? What do you do? What does your boyfriend do? What kind of a relationship is that??"
Landing in Shannon - immigration asks how does that work with an Irish lad - I answer "I'm going to take him with me to Croatia" - He answers: "Good, we have too many here anyway..."
Usual first impression - Smell of Irish air, get a picture of the place 3000km away from Cro, first drizzle, family with kid in bar, no smoking, internet in buses...wow factor...
Getting into car - Gabe got me tins of Becks instead of Guinness, car alarm goes off involuntarily, fuckodrome impossible, no casual sex possible in Eire cause of national parks everywhere
Waking up in Galway a little later, wind, rows of little white houses passing by...feel great factor...