UPGRADE CERTIFICATE TO TOTAL ASSHOLE

Hi, everyone, it's Lyin' Brian again, and I want to show you the certificate I won on my 64th birthday. As you all know, I was in hospital on that day, and the Awards Committe refused to enter the hospital owing to the dreadful condition of the ward in which I was held under guard because I refused to pay their bill.

Fortunately, the committee placed it in my outhouse file under the circular lid, and Linda , with some gentle persuasion (he,he), was kind enough to retrieve it for me. (Well, OK, I first had to get her pissed on a bottle of my special Pantherpiss Vodka but that wasn't hard!)

Dartmouth Slumlord

In his new blog, Lyin' Brian quotes from a Halifax newspaper about his vindication in the story of a torched apartment building in Dartmouth some years ago. Well, we dug into that newspaper's archives and came across the story reprinted below of another encounter with the authorities when Lyin' Brian was a Dartmouth slumlord.

The Chronicle Herald, Saturday, July 3, 1989

SLUMLORD NEARLY DROWNS IN LIQUID EXCREMENT

By Our Crime Reporter, Julian Nosebloat

Special to the Chronicle Herald

RCMP today charged a man with justifiable attempted homicide after an ugly incident near the man’s property in Dartmouth, Friday morning.

A man identified as Brian Wales, a landed immigrant and his Great Dane dogs, Sashi and Bubbles, were found floating belly up in a pool of their combined urine on the road in front of the charged man’s property. A neighbour said the nearly drowned man, a slumlord of several ramshackle apartment buildings in Dartmouth, said Mr. Wales often took his dogs for a stroll and, “strutted around the neighbourhood like he was lord of the manor, issuing threats and abusing anyone who didn’t tug their forelock and cower at his approach.”

According to another neighbour, “We all called him Lord Asshole and he sure had it comin’ to him. I’m glad some one taught that sod a much needed lesson. He should’ve been shipped back to England in a wooden box years ago.”

The nearly-deceased Mr. Wales, a 47 year-old landed immigrant, is described by all who know him as a sociopath and all-round shitbag. Const. Beaumerde, RCMP Detachment 6, said that by mistake, the paramedics on the scene after the fracas, applied heroic measures to save Mr. Wales’s life, when they should have concentrated their efforts on the Great Danes, “because they probably didn’t deserve to die.”

The man who attacked Mr. Wales was detained by police after the incident and charged with justifiable attempted homicide. After a brief hearing before Judge Nathan Prickwire of the Nova Scotia Supreme Court, the man, identified as Fidel Mendoza, was released on his own cognizance. Judge Prickwire told this reporter that whatever Mr. Mendoza’s involvement, it was plainly justified given the character of the near deceased. “He’ll likely get a medal instead of a fine,” the judge said.

Outside the courthouse, in brilliant sunshine, a huge crowd greeted Mr. Mendoza as he emerged onto the courthouse steps after his arraignment. Shouting encouragement, hundreds of well-wishers excitedly milled about, many carrying placards proclaiming support. Mr. Mendoza, who habitually wears sandals and flowing robes, is a tall, dignified, olive-skinned but nevertheless beautifully turned-out gentleman who bears an amazing likeness to Jesus Christ.

Among the well-wishers was the premier of Nova Scotia, John Buchanan, who with megaphone in hand, became master of ceremonies at the impromptu demonstration. “Fidel has done Dartmouth, Nova Scotia and, indeed all of Canada a great, great service in trying to do what all of us would like to do, put that shitbag, Brian Wales, permanently out of the picture.”

Mr. Wales, after his release from Dartmouth Memorial Hospital, had little to say to this reporter except to suggest I was vile scum and that my malicious stories were destroying what used to be a warm relationship between him and the welfare tenants in his cockroach-ridden tenements, which also serve as crack houses. according to some.

It was likely that he then went back to one of his slumlord properties where he spent the rest of his interrupted afternoon causing great disress to pregnant welfare mothers who were late paying their rent. His technique: when the mailman delivers the month's welfare cheques to his impoverished tenants, Mr. Wales is right behind him and demand the tenants sign the cheques over to him or face eviction. When they refuse, he cuts off their power, removes appliances, or padlocks their door (that's when the tenant is out of the building snorting up with the welfare cheque money). This is not news to anybody who watches TV or reads the Halifax papers.

Another well-reported practise of Mr. Wales, whenever he's short of operating capital, is to set fire to a tenement (he is reported to own twenty) to collect the insurance. At press time, it could not be confirmed if Mr. Wales did so on this particular afternoon, but he left this reporter positvely steaming with rage, even foaming at the mouth, so one must assume he was not about to deliver turkey dinners with all the trimmings to tenants who owed him money.

Lord Asshole's New Wine

Wow! Ducksplatt Winerie and Bathtub Excretions, PLC, has a new wine out today. Doesn't it not look great, or WHAT!!

The label is hard to read in the picture but for your convenience here it is at right in higher resolution.

This is just one of many new Ducksplatt product lines coming out soon that will bring more than a "flush to pallid cheeks" in The Dominican Republic!

Watch for new adulterated wines, whiskies, and amazingly different product lines from Lord Asshole's Workshop in Pata de Gallina (behind outhouse). In the works are fabulous new consumer products, books (mainly about Lord A), and even a movie that's gonna be a blockbuster (all about Lord A when he was a slumlord).

Stay Tuned!! (BTW, These will be on a cash only basis, so Diego, Marjorie Proops, her lesbian husband, Guillermo W. Bushbaby, and other Dominican idiots and morons are out of luck as they will not be sold to them or to any other deadbeats who issue cheques that bounce and expect credit on a promise-to-pay basis! Do they think I'm an idiot!!)

Lord Asshole is Back!

Well, it seems Lord Asshole is again posting on his blog (you know, the one he ‘shut down’ just recently because he claimed this one is a hateful parody of his). It seems his blog is his only remaining soapbox as he continues to be thrown off discussion boards for his compulsive outbursts of insults and vitriol and complaints about the Dominican tax system and anything else that irritates his tiny but very malicious mind.

In his latest post, it’s obvious he’s taking to sipping his afternoon ‘tea’ starting about ten in the morning. It’s strange how alcohol can make even an upper class Englishman lose the ability to spell, forget the meaning of words and the rudiments of English grammar. Didn't he attend Harrow, or was it Eton? Or was it …? Well, whatever, I must tell you how I, Lyin’ Brian, got out of that hellhole of a hospital, Ricardo Limardo.

My Escape from Ricardo Limardo Hospital

Strange to say, no one offered to pay the bill even after I promised to pay them back whenever I get out of my current financial bind. That will be after someone pulls another insurance scam with me as beneficiary, or better still, when I get my hands on the rest of Linda’s inheritance. I'll never make a living selling my bathtub gin and Pantherpiss wines because I pay more in taxes for the empty bottles than I pay for the Pantherpiss I put in!!

But, you know me; I’m a compulsive truth sayer and whenever you say nasty things about me you’d better have all the facts straight or you’ll suffer the consequences!!! Anyway, I’m never down for long. And when I tell you how I got out of that hospital you’ll die laughing!

What I did was get my favourite lawyer, Dolly C. (or someone with a name like that), to buy up the mortgage on the hospital including all the equipment such as those dreadful stomach pumps they use on sick horses. Then I had my insurance agent insure it up to the max that DR allows. Then, mysteriously, one night about 3 AM, when my guards were sleeping, the building caught fire! (Why did I have guards in a hospital? Stay awake you stupid idiots and READ my previous blogs!) Anyway, it was amazing and unbelievable good luck!

How it (the fire) happened I have no idea (wink, wink). And luckily only a few dozen of the inmates (patients) died in the resulting confusion and mayhem, but those were merely poor, sick bedridden Dominicans, and would have died soon anyway. And God must be smiling down on me because it also solved my current cash-flow problem!

Insuring a building just before it catches fire (who knows how they start?) has always been the best way to solve temporary cash-flow problems. It worked a charm when I was a slumlord in Dartmouth (that's near Sydney, Australia) during the late nineties. I think on that occasion, the fire was started by a pot-smoking pregnant female who wanted to get out of paying overdue rent, for which I was going to evict her, anyway. (Oh, BTW, that got a lot of play in the Halifax papers because it was just SO funny!!!)

And while I think of it, another way to solve temporary money shortfalls is to ensure private possessions such as cameras, electronic equipment, jewelry, small stuff that's easy to hide, do so, then claim it was stolen and collect a bundle of free money from the insurance company. I won’t tell where or when it happened for obvious reasons, but I got $22,000 that way and it was SO easy!!!

Now, I must tell you of the strangest dream I had!

I'm in, like, Noah's Ark, but I'm not. I'm in my beautiful home in Pata de Gallina. Fortunately this is on a hill but it rains and rains and now the floodwaters are rising. Each time I look they have gotten higher. I have to get OUT of here so I call for HELP.

Some people, I can't make out who they are, arrive by boat (all the streets have turned to rivers and fast flowing ones at that!). But these people shout they cannot bring the boat right up to the house so they will throw me a lifeline.

Some lifeline! This is a rope ladder bridge, rickety in the extreme, like the rickety suspension bridge close to Jarabacoa, which for 20 pesos, one can walk on, but not me even when I’m awake and completely sober.

Anyway, I affix one end to the cupola at the highest part of my beautiful house while the rescuers secure the other end. Slowly I start to walk across the bridge holding on for dear life. Then suddenly the water disappears! I look down; the earth is hundreds of feet below. It is a sheer drop … it is absofuckinlutely TERRIFYING!

I am halfway across the rope ladder bridge. I look behind, back to the house. There is my wife together with ALL the people I have ever met in the Dominican Republic. They are smiling, but they seem to be gloating too! This is awful! I look forward, and now I can make out the faces of the rescuers. They are those film extras, or DR1 Defenders or medics who had the horse stomach pump, or whatever, in that dreadful hospital … and one of them has a saw!

He comes forward, an evil, insane expression on his face. And slowly, very slowly, he begins to saw away at the rope ladder bridge, looking up every few seconds to catch my eye and laughing demoniacally...

I realize this is only a dream but I can’t wake up … What am I to do? Is this demon an insane killer? I can't get that laugh out of my head. And each time I look down, the earth is getting farther and farther away…

I wake up trembling and drenched in sweat. What did the dream mean? Why did none of my DR friends come to help me in the dream? Even my lovely wife, Linda, seemed part of the gloating crowd!

It has been days now and I’m back to my normal overbearing, domineering self, but I can’t shake the dream entirely. Does anyone have a suggestion about what it all means?

Drink Ducksplatt del Pantherpiss
Drink responsibly or you'll have bad dreams
Drink only mine and you'll have nothing but wet dreams

Abuse of 911

Well, I'll be darned!!!

Can you believe it!!! Me, Brian Wales, Mr. Nice Guy to my several hundred friends in the DR, have in hand a warrant from the Halifax police saying I have to appear in court in November to answer charges that I assaulted my wife and abused the 911 system!!!!! It's so laughable that I think I'll spurt off some Pantherpiss in several directions to demonstrate my derision!

You know what these idiots in Halifax charge??? They claim that one night in 2003 my wife was taken to the Halifax Infirmary in an ambulance and that I, trying to find out how she was doing, called 911 fifty times in a four hour period!!! Because of that, these morons want to charge me with abusing the 911 system!!! Well, to get the record straight, here's what happened:

I was instructing my drunken sot of a wife, Linda, in the fine art of peeling an avocado with a ten-inch butcher knife. when during her enthusiastic learning experience , she got too close to my 'experimental' (heh heh) still. Private stills are illegal in Canada, but so is growing marijuana even for health reasons, besides which I consider myself above the law wherever I live.

Anyway, the still was bubbling away with an experimental brew of Ducado Pantherpiss Oaken Whiskey that I intended to (and did) market when we moved to the Dominican Republic. Well, can you imagine! As my wife staggered around, I tried to stop her but she bumped against the still, and as she fell to the floor the butcher knife cut a long gash on her arm.

Her spurting blood was so copious that it was pooling in the broadloom and she even splattered gobs of it over the walls. It was almost as bad as when she pissed our bed and broadloom in Pata de Gallina as I reported later in an email to several friends. Anyway, it was staining the rugs and tapestries so bad they would be useless in our new home in the Dominican Republic, when we moved there the following year.

I had been drinking moderately that evening, as I do every evening, in contrast with Linda's guzzling down at least two bottles of my (experimental) Oaken Whiskey. All the same, Nova Scotia is very strict about driving and drinking, so I called 911 to come and get her.

Unbelievable!!!! It took those idiots 15 minutes to get here though we lived only 5 minutes away from the firehall where the morons keep their 911 truck. Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to soak up the blood and prevent further damage to my priceless rugs and tapestries.

Linda was babbling drunkenly as the 911 goons placed her on the gurney and to some of them, it seemed like she was shrieking, "Brian did it to me!" when she was really saying, "Brian didn't do it, it was me!"

Well, as i say, I still had a horrendous mess to clean up and for obvious reasons I couldn't go with her while she was rushed to emergency in Halifax.

In my concern, understandably, I kept calling 911 to find out whether they had called in the police about her ravings. I worried that she might tell them that I somehow had caused the accident. So I called 911 every few minutes because they wouldn't give me a straight answer. So that's a crime????? I was concerned that she had blabbed untruths about me. Despite my explanation, the police got threatening and said I would be charged with mischief and and abuse of the 911 system.

WELL, I thought it had all been sorted after I explained that I suffer from diabetes insipidus and that in me, the disorder causes me to become agitated whenever I encounter a stressful situation. But the morons still placed me in jail overnight and charged me with mischief and abuse of the 911 system. That was the last I heard of it until I got the summons.

Well, Ha, ha! you losers and morons! I'll appear in court about the same time O.J.Simpson admits he killed his ex-wife and friend and offers millions in compensation to their relatives!!!

If you look carefully at the pictures of Linda in my blog, Living the Adventure, you'll see that her arm has healed and there's only a ten inch scar on her arm.

THIS ISN'T A NIGHTMARE

Monday September 18th. This is REAL! It's lucky when they brought me here in the ambulance to the Ricardo Limardo Hospital they threw in my laptop. Otherwise, the world wouldn't know of my plight! Well, here it is: I, LYIN' BRIAN Wails, am STILL in this Godforsaken so-called hospital! WHY?? Because these morons at Dominican hospitals won't release you until you have paid their bill!!! How preposterous! I explained that I have a slight liquidity problem at present but that I will pay them. Yet these idiots don't seem to believe me!! Each time I mention the words "liquidity problem" those wretched medicos with their DR1 Defenders horse stomach pump reappear with beaming smiles... And each time they 'perform' another 3,000 pesos are added to the bill! This is HELL. Forgive my language, but you can see how distressed I am!!!! They also tell me that I am really very sick, indeed. They say that the medication I took, my LIFE SAVING medication, which I simply MUST have or die, was not of a good standard. This was the medication that arrived by special delivery from abroad. Either that or someone pee'd into the pepsi with which I washed it down... On top of all this, while I'm stretched out on my bed of pain, I get a Special Delivery from my internet mail service, which has the effrontery and gall to suggest I should review previous emails I sent as they may have breached the terms of service because they were abusive!!! ABUSIVE??? Those morons!! All the emails did was tell friends and close relatives, in fact everyone in my address book including myself (just to make sure they went out!) what a drunk my wife is and to prove it I included a full-colour picture of her passed out on my bedroom floor! That was only what any reasonable husband would do when he just has to get rid of his wife one way or the other, when she won't turn over the rest of her inheritance to her husband to manage for her! Anyway, the mails served their purpose because she has sobered up and even prepared the special meal on my birthday last Friday! (It wasn't anything she put in the meal that got me here, it was the exorcism performed illegally on me by that bitch, Marjorie Proops!) And as for abuse, they should be looking at that IMPOSTER, Fidel Mendoza. He stole my address book and sent to everyone in it, abusive, racist, libelous, defaming, illegal lies about me! Where are all my DR friends? I am NOT really sick and am as strong as a horse, but I need help! Somebody please bring the money to get me out of here! I'll pay you back, I promise. You know I always pay my debts and never run out on any pending bills. Oh, no! I used the wrong word! It's those four again ...

WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?

FROM THE RICARDO LIMARDO HOSPITAL, PUERTO PLATA

Saturday Sept. 16th.

PUMPING!
I know everyone has been breathlessly awaiting the FULL story of my birthday dinner yesterday, but faithful readers, you will be terribly disappointed to learn that I can't recall much of it!! But here's what I do remember:

The first course started out being superb - duck pâté drizzled with a tantalising raspberry coulis served on exquisite bone china with silver forks. But then, as I pushed my fork into the second mouthful, there was a strange commotion as a demonic, witch-like figure danced into the room and it was cackling away, "Brian forked the duck and then the duck forked Brian!".

To my hazy recollection, I could almost swear this demonic figure looked like that idiot Marjorie Proops, not that I ever use abusive language, as you all know. Then the demon did something strange with chicken claws, sand, matches and a peacock feather. Our maid who saw all this going on, shrieked, "She's doing a trabajo!!!" I don't believe in witchcraft, but for anyone stupid enough to believe this rubbish, trabajo is an exorcism to exterminate evil spirits.

I must have fainted because the next thing I recall was being in a car where I was told we were going to hospital. I said that IF that was necessary I should be taken to Centro Medico where all the rich foreigners go. But the driver who must have been talking with my wife, said I wasn't a rich foreigner because I only gave her US$43.67 per month pocket money and so we were going to the public hospital. The nerve of that idiot! Had I not been weak, frail and unwell I would have sorted him out then and there !!!!

So here I am in Ricardo Limardo Hospital and I can assure you, my faithful readers, this is NOT a place you would want to be in! Every hour on the hour I keep seeing those film extras or DR1 Defenders or whatever they are. They bring the unmentionable object in the photograph and tell me that on the next visit they will perform. Apparently they also moonlight as medics in this hospital. Some medics! Why do they bring a horse stomach pump (pictured at left)? Are they trying to intimidate me? They say, “Mr. Wails, (they can't even spell my name right!) we have come to extract the Pantherpiss” …

So this can't be real! I'm sure it's all a nightmare and I will soon wake up. But why is there a ghetto blaster in this hospital ward? And why does it keep repeating one tune, Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64, which BTW I turned yesterday. And the announcer kept saying, This is sung to you by Fidel Mendoza on your special day, Lyin' Brian!

And why do the nurses have written on their uniforms the logo Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band? And name tags with non-Dominican names like Maureen McMullen or Maureen Davies on them? Will I ever wake up from all of this …?

Ah ha! Maybe I am waking up The music has changed to, Yesterday, All my troubles seemed so far away, Now it looks as though they're here to stay … Oh NO! Those four 'medics' have just returned. Will no-one get me out of here? Where are all my friends? Where are all my relatives and DR friends who care about me?

OUCH!

He's Got Lord Asshole in His Arms!

For my birthday tomorrow, Osama sent me this funny picture of us both, and I can hardly stop laughing. I told you he always cracks me up with his jokes! I'm going to frame it in my office in Pata de Gallina. Maybe I'll title it: "Osama's Got the Infidel in His Hands" or "Safe in the Arms of Another Thug."

Suggestions would be appreciated, but please, as always, no crudities or bad words.

He also sent me another great joke that I've got to share with you:

Two Jews boarded a shuttle out of Isreal for Damascus. One sat in the window seat, the other in the middle seat. Just before take off a fat little Arab guy got on and took the aisle seat next to the Jews. He kicked off his shoes, wiggled his toes and was settling in when the Jew in the window seat said, "I think I'll go up and get a coke.""No, let me," said the Arab, "I'll get it for you."

While he was gone, one of the Jews picked up one of the Arab's shoes and spat in it. When the Arab returned with the coke, the other Jew said, "That looks good. I think I'll have one too." Again, the Arab obligingly went to fetch it, and while he was gone the other Jew picked up the other shoe and hocked a big oyster into it.

The Arab returned with the coke, and they all sat back and enjoyed the short flight to Damascus. As the plane was landing the Arab slipped his feet into his shoes and knew immediately what had happened. "How long must this go on?" he asked. "This enmity between our peoples ... this hatred ... this animosity... this spitting in shoes and peeing in cokes?"

In the terminal, as the three were picking up their luggage, the Arab who happened to be a member of al-Qaida, secretly signalled to one of the guards, also a member of the terrorist group, and the guard shot the two Jews dead after yelling, "These Jews spit into an Arab's shoes!"

Oh, Osama, you're just the funniest! Keep the jokes coming!!!

I'M TO STAR IN A MOVIE!!!

Buzzards Gotta Eat (Contributed)

So says an anonymous contributor to the comments on Wednesday's blog. That quote of course comes from The Outlaw Josey Wales film by Clint Eastwood. Josey Wales was one of MY forefathers (or as he is known in these parts José Wales).

Did you know that a remake of this thrilling adventure story is currently being filmed very near Pata de Gallina? My lovely wife Linda tells me that the men I saw the other night with shovels are in fact film extras, not DR1 Defenders at all.

Silly billy me! I was confused by their costumes. This film remake has been especially commissioned by the President of the Dominican Republic, my pal, Leonel, to honour ME, one of the best expats the DR has ever known. Modesty prevents me from claiming the number one spot ha! ha!

They were going to call this remake The Inlaw Brian Wales but they received letters of protest from Bournemouth UK. I am to have a starring role in this film (but they won't tell me what it is, yet). The female lead is to be played by that doyenne of cinema noire verité in England in the 1960's, Denise Hinchcliffe. Can't wait to meet her again and renew old times as we mutually admire each other's thespian proclivities!

Nor can I wait for my super special birthday dinner at precisely 5.03 pm on Friday 15th. which as you all know is my BIRTHDAY. I thought of inviting Denise as well but Linda says there isn't enough of the special ingredient for both Denise and myself.

Drink responsibly
Drink only mine
Drink Pantherpiss

A BIRTHDAY TO REMEMBER

A New Leaf

WOW! Friday, 15 September, is my 64^th BIRTHDAY and in preparation, everyone is being SO nice!! Even my lovely wife Linda has turned over a new leaf when she found that I was looking for some old friends in Dorset -- Denise Hinchcliffe, Maureen MacMullen or her friend Maureen Davies (I just wanted to contact them to see how life had treated them, and whether they had any large amounts of money they would like me to manage for them). Anyway, Linda has put down the bottle (I hope not just temporarily) and taken up a hobby - making Inca blow darts; this keeps her sober every day.

I’m the cook in this family but on this special day Linda insisted she would prepare my birthday meal, 'something really special', she said. That's when she can be persuaded to put down her new book which she finds fascinating, Lucrezia Borgia's Best Recipes.

We had a postal delivery this morning and SO many people sent me cards and presents. I'm obviously a very popular and much loved person. So ha! ha! to those who said I wasn't. Linda found a little box from Dr. Norman Pinsky marked 'something special for Brian'. She was SO excited she rushed straight into the kitchen with it and wouldn't let me see it. Playful girl! She said on Friday I'd have a real surprise …

I'm sure you all want to know what my presents are. Well, Linda's family in Bournemouth sent me a Beatles CD 'She Loves You Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!' a bit old perhaps but it's the thought that counts. And my ex-lawyer Dolly must be regretting falling out of my favour because she sent me a very weighty book Codes of Conduct for Gringos in Dominican Jails. A bit stuffy on the academic side but again it's the thought that counts.

Even those idiot message board morons didn't forget my special day. Pasty Boy sent me a book called Sock Puppets For Dummies; Hillbilly sent me Do It Yourself BBQ Building, and Bushbaby sent me a software programme Blog Trackers Anonymous. He must think I don't know where that OTHER scurrilous blog is coming from … ha! ha!

Even Marjorie Proops realises she had better be nice to me because of my contacts with the President. She has dedicated her latest novel to me. She was going to call it Life of Brian but apparently that title was taken. So instead she has called it You Don't Know The Half Of It Brian. I think the title is meant to be ironical but the laugh's on her because I DO know the half of it… ha! ha!

Xanadu Ranch sent me a bottle of wine; bit of an insult really since my own Ducksplatt del Pantherpiss is SO much better, but then, he never did have much breeding did he? And I suppose he meant it as an apology for two years of his unadulterated rudeness. Rocky sent me a nice offer: he said he could introduce me to a lunatic demolition company when I needed to blast my way out. Another one of his idiotic suggestions that only he could understand. But again, I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

Even Diego sent me a gift subscription to one of his dating websites, clearly a thank you for all my valuable and knowledgeable contributions to his Forum before I resigned. It was inscribed with an admiring message which read, 'you won't find any heiresses here'.

Escott sort of sent me a present: he returned all the Pantherpiss which he had at his Coyote restaurant with a card inscribed 'From one sphincter to another' plus a busness card on which he had scribbled 'when you're ready to sell up and ship out, call me. BAM!'

My friends at Impuestos Internos sent an imported gift since it was marked in English 'Quick and Handy Franchise Calculator'. On the cover it said, 'For those unpredictable moments' … very thoughful of them!

The only person I didn't get a present from was that imposter Fidel Mendoza in Sydney, Australia. I must admit I'm somewhat taken aback. I thought he would want to curry favour now I've exposed him for what he is. I’ll bet he had a surprise gift in store for me but was too cheap to ship it all the way from Australia!!! Mind you, there is a parcel here from a Tracy Mendoza, his daughter; she must have sent the dessert course - it is shaped like a Christmas pudding with a wire exposed at the top ... I do hope she isn't one of those LESBIANS which there seem to be so many of in Linda's family.

So those were my birthday gifts and on Friday, my special meal that my wife will lovingly prepare, will be served at precisely 5.03 pm, when as on every day, I must have my dinner. OH NO! We seem to have visitors outside … 4 men with shovels, their uniforms sporting the logo, DR1 Defenders. But it's OK, Linda says they'll be here on Friday too, to do a little job for her later …Ta ta for now. Can't wait, darling, in anticipation, the dinner smells GORGEOUS …

SELFLESS GESTURE

From the 12 September, issue of the Puerto Plata News.

LOCAL VINTNER, Distiller, Insufferable Blogger, Donates Main Body Part for Medical Research.

Puerto Plata, Special to the News. In a selfless gesture that has given new hope to those suffering torments from insufferable assholes, Brian Wales of Puerto Plata has donated his sphincter for research. Although he has insisted that his sphincter can be studied only after his death, which given his current age (64 on Friday) cannot be far off, Mr. Wales’s sphincter is so unusual, representing as it does his entire personality, the generous donation has electrified researchers in the field of sphincter research. The Nobel Committee is said to be considering a special medal to be awarded to Mr. Wales while he is still around to enjoy the honour.

On Mr. Wales’s death, most of his body which is pure sphincter, will be delivered to the Centre for Sphincter Research in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada (that’s not far from Sydney, Australia), Dr. Norman Pinsky, Chief Pathologist at the center, was astonished, astounded and practically in tears when told the news. Wiping his eyes on a clean tissue used to hold unusual specimens, he informed this reporter, “… never before have we had a complete and total asshole to study.”

He continued, “I apologise for using the vulgar word ‘asshole’, but in this institute literally surrounded by all kinds of sphincters - large, petite, rosy-red, gross, puckered, pinched, indifferent, weirdly-shaped, inside out, upside down, etc., we researchers can’t go around all the time calling them by the medically correct term. But in Mr. Wales’s case, the word is entirely appropriate.”

Lawyers have warned us!!!!

WE MUST "DECEASE AND DESIST"

A legal firm in England has advised us that they have succeeded in forcing a parody of this blog, "Living the Adventure", run by an ex-Brit by the name of Brian Wales, maker of bathtub gins, whiskeys, and wines from chemical juices, to shut down and transfer its written contents to another site (secret, except to friends, who must be very few. See his blog of today if you have a strong stomach.)

Nobody with any sense ever reads his narcissistic, self-glorifying blog, unless they want a laugh seeing what a true idiot can produce on the web, providing, of course, that it's entirely free!

But it was distracting and confusing to some people who got on his blog by mistake thinking it was this one.

Anyway, we wish to thank the legal firm's president, David Brown, BA (HON) , VD and Scar, SCTR, for putting it straight to Lord Asshole that he shouldn't play lawyer when he hasn't the slightest understanding of the law and what it says here, or anywhere else in the civilized world.

He should first ask his daughter, Tara, evidently a lawyer from somewhere, before he mouths off on subjects he knows nothing about. For example, the 'well-educated' Lord Asshole should know that there is no legal meaning to the term "decease and desist" unless it means, "you must die and then stop doing what your're doing".

The legal term, of course, is "cease and desist". But that's just Lord Asshole showing his profound ignorance once again and acting as lawyer when he doesn't have the vaguest idea of law in the Dominican Republic or anywhere else.

BTW, my birthday is coming up, and I just can't WAIT to tell all the wonderful readers of this blog the amazing surprises and celebrations that await YOU on Friday, 15th September! You lucky people; I'm Brian Wales and you're NOT !!!!

Comments to: lyinbrian@blogspot.com

GREAT NEWS !!!
We have a new brand of Ducksplatt del Pantherpiss that is selling like, well, PANTHERPISS!!! We call this new aged-in-the-woods wine, Hercules Pantherpiss.

Lyin' Brian says: We have several focus groups designing the label for the new batch of Pantherpiss. We kind of like the one at left, but maybe you oenophiles out there have some suggestions. We'll print the best though they must be in good taste and on a level that shows you are not lacking education. Already I have orders for 25,000 bottles from local hotels, restaurants and bistros all over this Hispaniola paradise.

Contact me at avocadolyin@blogspot.com

AN ABOMINABLE FIND

This is what I found floating in my swimming pool this morning! You know, the swimming pool I had cleaned and treated so that the bacteria and coliform count was absolutely zero? And did I tell you I spent tens of thousands of dollars having the pool work re-done by other than the crooked and incompetent native DRs who did the original work. It was so typical third-rate Dominican workmanship. Of course I sent the bill for the re-work to them.

Well, early this morning, after spending all that money, thinking Ive finally got the clean pool I deserve, I get out of bed, trip down to the bath house and prepare myself for an invigorating dip. And then I realize the mistakeI I made not having a fence put around it!! Because in my pool, which the evening before was crystal clear, there's floating a bloated body!!

My initial reaction was that some local Pata de Gallina drunk had wandered onto my property during the night, probably pissed on cheap wine (not my quality Ducksplatt del Pantherpiss, of course), and in a drunken stupour fell into the pool and drowned!!!

Well, to my utter surprise, after I had the body fished out by an employee who works in my bottling shed, it turned out to be the remains of the chief contractor who I had paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to build the pool in the first place!!

Unbelievably, on his body was a suicide note, saying, that he had not been paid by me, Lyin Brian, and that his wife and eighteen children would starve as a consequence!! Who is he kidding??? Because he did such a lousy job, did he expect me to pay hin!!! Such arrogance!! I just can't believe these corrupt, deadbeat natives expect to be paid ANYTHING when they do such lousy work!!

Well, the body has been disposed of and I've had the pool drained, cleaned, and disinfected, and things are more or less back to normal. Now, I ask you: WHAT ELSE COULD I HAVE DONE?

Drink responsibly
Drink only Mine
Drink Ducksplatt del Pantherpiss

ABUSIVE COMMENTS ARE NOT WELCOME

We love to receive your comments about anything you read here. However, we will not publish any more comments that begin with coded endearments such as, "Dear M-F***er , etc..." Also, we will only print comments from anonymous if the quality matches this blog in excellence.

So those of you who told me to soak my head in a bucket of rat p**s and are wondering why your comments are not appearing - now you know. This Blog is intended for serious surfers who like to be fully up-to-date of what I am doing in my home, pool, septic tank, and Ducksplatt Winery, and have the benefit of my exact thoughts on everything and why you are inferior to me in every way.

If that is not why you visit this blog then I invite you to join the rest of the ignorant losers in the DR and crawl back under the rock to continue what you were doing before. That aside, there is one more gripe I have to get off my chest!!!!!!!!!

The thing that continues to enrage me is that everyone, even relatives, think they know more than I do! Can you believe it!!!!! What these uneducated losers, stupid ex-pats, low-grade Dominicans, etc., do not understand is that I come from a superior English background and when I speak on any subject, I am the only authority around worth listening to.

As I think back on my nearly 64 years, as a successful vintner, distiller, slum landlord, potato chip maker, lucrative fake charity organizer, supplying Royal Households with concubines and fat boys, etc., my only regret is that when I came to the DR to show this backward country how to make quality wines and whiskies, I trusted and followed the advice of native lawyers, tax officials, developers, ex-pats and other stupid people beyond count. AND EVERY ONE OF THEM IS TRYING TO CHEAT AND SHAKE ME DOWN!!!!!

And now, even my own relatives are giving me advice that belongs in the file with the circular lid! Not long ago, can you believe it, I got an email from a distant cousin in England, Eloha Drol, that had me so mad I couldn't calm down until I relieved the tension by telling everybody in my address book what a drunken sod my wife is and proved it by following up with a picture of her stretched out dead drunk on my bedroom floor!

Eloha, my ex-cousin, said he was concerned about me, (I'll bet!!!) In his letter he made the outrageous statement that I am a controlling individual (in other words, I'm a control freak!!!) and that the way I should treat my drink-sodden wife, Linda, was to sit down with her, put my arm around her, and coo comforting words into her alkie-demented brain!!!!!!!!!!

Well, try to talk to a DRUNK who thinks she knows how to cook, and only succeeds in pissing up my house. I'm tired of trying to keep my bedroom, bathroom, winery, distillery, etc., clean of urine! That bitch is making a career of pissing my life away!!!! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!!!!!

God knows, I've tried as far as a decent human Englishman can go to get along with everyone in the DR. Try as I do, nothing seems to satisfy anyone, and I get nothing but obnoxious emails from smucking DR lowlifes that demean me and try to make me feel ashamed for being alive. Well, I'M TOTALLY FED UP AND EVERYONE IS GOING TO FEEL MY FURY SOON!!!!!

I may even go so far as to shut down this blog and start it up again under a different name and blog server! AND it will be one that only my friends and supporters will be allowed to view after they send me their email address!!

I'm sure you all agree with me and I welcome and will publish your own personal stories of how everybody except me is at fault.

Contact me at: avocadolyin@blogspot.com