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