27 April 2013
660
R. Linda:
Time to play catchup since I've been very busy doing things like discovering the true feeling of angst, what it is like to be stuck in a lockdown city, and in general things running amok. I need to go backwards in time because before all that other took over, I had wanted to get with you on a subject which is now moot, but still -- CATCHUP.
When I heard Maggie Thatcher had passed, I was at first sitting with a foolish Irish smile on me foolish Irish face and then when someone asked me what was so amusing, I banished the foolish Irish smile and looked as innocent as I knew how. Which was a hard thing to do, because me face went into convulsions trying to look innocent when all it wanted to do was put that foolish Irish smile back. I tell ya!
So once left to meself and the foolish Irish smile came back I closed me eyes and wondered what would one find in Maggie Thatcher's briefcase. I know that is a stupid or foolish Irish question, but I did have to wonder. I was sure if one carefully rummaged around one would find an iron pipe for hitting parliament members over the head when they disagreed, perhaps a picture of Meryl Streep so we could put a slap on our face to look as much like Meryl as possible, and a mini photo album of Ronald Regan and oneself in the rose garden of the White House. Ah, one could dream!
I decided to go online to see if by some chance pretty Kate was going to the funeral and when I found out she was not, only our Queen and possibly whatshisname? Oh, Philip, I decided to stay home as well. If this funeral wasn't good enough for our Katie, it wasn't good enough for Gabe. I decided I'd stay home that day out of respect (sort of) and sip an Irish cuppa Bewley's finest and munch on Walkers Scottish shortbreads while watching the whole spectacle of back-turning and insulting signs along the way from one church to another. Sighing, I imagined meself sipping and munching, but I never got to do that as circumstances prevented my day of wallowing in foolish Irish amusement.
However, the night before I decided to raid me closet for the appropriate attire to wear while viewing the last journey of Maggie T. I found a black turtleneck sweater, black cords and a . . . wait for it . . . balaclava! Yes, I did. Perfect Irish attire for the occasion! All I needed was an Uzi to complete me look. Okay gone too far, I apologise. An Uzi is not an easy thing to possess unless you go to a gun show in America and then easy-peasy! But to be honest I be afraid of guns so it was all in me foolish Irish head this scenario.
It did hit me, actually woke me up out of a deep sleep that night, that Maggie and Ronnie died of basically the same ailment. I was wondering if the staff at the Gates had clued in Ronnie that Maggie was on her way up (or is that down?) anyway, I sat straight up in bed thinking would either one know the other? I mean . . . okay my bad. But that did wake me up!
But as I tried to get back to sleep, the nagging thought that EVERYONE outside the UK lived in awed fear of the Iron Lady might change things up, they find she's no longer among the living. I always had in the back of me mind, that SHE was THE why no one messed with Britain. I found meself in a cold sweat thinking that if word got out she was GONE to the great Parliament in the sky, Iran and North Korea would be joyously turning their sights to a Thatcher-less Britain! We can't have that! Up to now, it was a state secret NOT to tell those two countries that Maggie had been out of office for years. Somehow the facade was kept up for all this time and they had no clue, thus they were behaving (sort of). But now! Oh my, what to do? We know Cameron is useless and I don't think the Iranians and North Koreans even know who he is. Hell, most of the population of the UK doesn't know who he is! This could be disastrous. SIGH.
Oh wait, we could get Meryl Streep and keep the show going! There we go.
I did get to watch a snippet, yes a snippet on the telly of dignitaries arriving to pay their condolences and I did notice the French head of state was there! I almost fell off me foolish Irish chair when I saw Hollende because it be common knowledge Maggie T detested the French! But I suppose all is forgiven once one is gone. So sad. I rather enjoyed the barbs slung across the channel and from what I understand through the Chunnel as well, but . . . I digress as usual.
I do wonder what the old girl thought looking down or up from wherever she has landed, at all the pomp and ceremony to honour her memory, a memory that a lot of people (the Irish and Argentines in particular) would like to fade off into the mists. But when all is said and done I will miss that lipsticked, teased head of Britain's most revered/despised Prime Minister. I will say I did get a very good laugh at the last when I saw that Thailand was running a picture on their telly stations of the PM, but the picture was of Meryl Streep as the PM. Yes indeed, that ran for a couple of days before someone noticed. Yup . . . goes to show not everyone knew who Maggie T was. A fond memory that.
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Time to play catchup since I've been very busy doing things like discovering the true feeling of angst, what it is like to be stuck in a lockdown city, and in general things running amok. I need to go backwards in time because before all that other took over, I had wanted to get with you on a subject which is now moot, but still -- CATCHUP.
When I heard Maggie Thatcher had passed, I was at first sitting with a foolish Irish smile on me foolish Irish face and then when someone asked me what was so amusing, I banished the foolish Irish smile and looked as innocent as I knew how. Which was a hard thing to do, because me face went into convulsions trying to look innocent when all it wanted to do was put that foolish Irish smile back. I tell ya!
So once left to meself and the foolish Irish smile came back I closed me eyes and wondered what would one find in Maggie Thatcher's briefcase. I know that is a stupid or foolish Irish question, but I did have to wonder. I was sure if one carefully rummaged around one would find an iron pipe for hitting parliament members over the head when they disagreed, perhaps a picture of Meryl Streep so we could put a slap on our face to look as much like Meryl as possible, and a mini photo album of Ronald Regan and oneself in the rose garden of the White House. Ah, one could dream!
I decided to go online to see if by some chance pretty Kate was going to the funeral and when I found out she was not, only our Queen and possibly whatshisname? Oh, Philip, I decided to stay home as well. If this funeral wasn't good enough for our Katie, it wasn't good enough for Gabe. I decided I'd stay home that day out of respect (sort of) and sip an Irish cuppa Bewley's finest and munch on Walkers Scottish shortbreads while watching the whole spectacle of back-turning and insulting signs along the way from one church to another. Sighing, I imagined meself sipping and munching, but I never got to do that as circumstances prevented my day of wallowing in foolish Irish amusement.
However, the night before I decided to raid me closet for the appropriate attire to wear while viewing the last journey of Maggie T. I found a black turtleneck sweater, black cords and a . . . wait for it . . . balaclava! Yes, I did. Perfect Irish attire for the occasion! All I needed was an Uzi to complete me look. Okay gone too far, I apologise. An Uzi is not an easy thing to possess unless you go to a gun show in America and then easy-peasy! But to be honest I be afraid of guns so it was all in me foolish Irish head this scenario.
It did hit me, actually woke me up out of a deep sleep that night, that Maggie and Ronnie died of basically the same ailment. I was wondering if the staff at the Gates had clued in Ronnie that Maggie was on her way up (or is that down?) anyway, I sat straight up in bed thinking would either one know the other? I mean . . . okay my bad. But that did wake me up!
But as I tried to get back to sleep, the nagging thought that EVERYONE outside the UK lived in awed fear of the Iron Lady might change things up, they find she's no longer among the living. I always had in the back of me mind, that SHE was THE why no one messed with Britain. I found meself in a cold sweat thinking that if word got out she was GONE to the great Parliament in the sky, Iran and North Korea would be joyously turning their sights to a Thatcher-less Britain! We can't have that! Up to now, it was a state secret NOT to tell those two countries that Maggie had been out of office for years. Somehow the facade was kept up for all this time and they had no clue, thus they were behaving (sort of). But now! Oh my, what to do? We know Cameron is useless and I don't think the Iranians and North Koreans even know who he is. Hell, most of the population of the UK doesn't know who he is! This could be disastrous. SIGH.
Oh wait, we could get Meryl Streep and keep the show going! There we go.
I did get to watch a snippet, yes a snippet on the telly of dignitaries arriving to pay their condolences and I did notice the French head of state was there! I almost fell off me foolish Irish chair when I saw Hollende because it be common knowledge Maggie T detested the French! But I suppose all is forgiven once one is gone. So sad. I rather enjoyed the barbs slung across the channel and from what I understand through the Chunnel as well, but . . . I digress as usual.
I do wonder what the old girl thought looking down or up from wherever she has landed, at all the pomp and ceremony to honour her memory, a memory that a lot of people (the Irish and Argentines in particular) would like to fade off into the mists. But when all is said and done I will miss that lipsticked, teased head of Britain's most revered/despised Prime Minister. I will say I did get a very good laugh at the last when I saw that Thailand was running a picture on their telly stations of the PM, but the picture was of Meryl Streep as the PM. Yes indeed, that ran for a couple of days before someone noticed. Yup . . . goes to show not everyone knew who Maggie T was. A fond memory that.
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
4 comments:
Such caustic wit. I had to laugh in spite of the fact I rather liked the old girl.
At least you had the proper funeral colour even if it wasn't exactly the mourning attire most Brits had in mind. LOL
LMAO
You are soooo strange! But I guess I've always known that.LOL
I can actually see in the chair grinning, kind of like the cheshire cat!
I rather liked her too!
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