Category: Satiricus

Satiricus was happy with the new developments in the sugar belt he’d just read about in the papers. He’d been agonising about the fate of all those folks who’ve been fired, but now there was hope. The Demerara Rum Company (DRC) needed molasses for making its world-famous rum, and had been agonising even more about where it was going to get its supply, with all these sugar estates closing down faster than “piss-a-bed” plants when touched. “Did you hear about DRC working with the Government to reopen Kenmore Estate to…

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Satiricus was in a good mood. His leaders Rum Jhaat and Nagga Man had managed to keep off the political radar all week and he figured he wouldn’t get the usual “tantalising” at the Back Street Bar, where he was headed. He greeted the waitress when he entered with a hearty, “Happy Women’s Day!” but got a surly “What’s to be happy about with your government?” for his troubles. He decided to leave well alone as continued to the back table, still smiling. “Hey Sato!” exclaimed Bungi. “Like yuh get…

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Satiricus was in awe at nature’s fury. He looked at the pictures of the Atlantic waves hitting the sea wall and careening 30 feet into the air and fell mute. As he ambled over to the Back Street Bar, he just couldn’t shake the image from his mind. “Imagine if that wave fell on my head!” Satiricus exclaimed as he sat down and accepted a beer from the waitress. “Me know yuh a think ‘bout dem wave pan de sea wall!” grinned Bungi. “Da jus’ Gaad a play Phagwah wid…

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Satiricus was in a feisty mood. He’d just read the WAPA representative saying his party KFC had gotten more than its fair share after the elections, from the Pee-an-See. “What a crock!” he fumed to himself as he stalked into the Back Street Bar. He downed his beer without even as much as a “hello” to the fellas. “If you want the truth, it is WAPA that got more than it deserved!” he blurted out firmly, as he put down his bottle rather abruptly. “Tek am easy, Sato,” said Cappo…

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Satiricus was smiling all the way to the Back Street Bar. He and the fellas had looked at the Mash Float Parade on TV this year at their individual homes, and he knew they would be comparing notes. In previous years, they’d all taken their families to look at the jump up and wining, but this year the wives had drawn a line: There were too many robberies taking place, and they weren’t going to take any chances in the hyena’s den! “Budday, wha’ yuh tink?” called out Cappo to…

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Satiricus dreaded going over to the Back Street Bar. It wasn’t that he’d found religion or anything and became scared of “demon rum”; he just knew he’d be getting some good “tantalizing” from the fellas. “And why not?” he mused ruefully. Hadn’t he been promising them all month that something big was going to happen this Valentine’s Day from the KFC? “OK…OK…fellas,” said Satiricus, who’d decided a good offence was better than a weak defence. “The Valentine Day announcement from my KFC leaders didn’t come out the way I was…

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Sometimes Satiricus enjoyed his job as a newshound. Here it was he’d gotten the chance to see the future, and to be honest with himself, he rather enjoyed it. His editor had sent him to cover the Big “Oil Summit” at the Marriott, and right off the bat he was impressed: he had to be ‘accredited”!! Normally, when the local business big-wigs have their “summits”, you could just show up and – BINGO!! – you were in! As he swaggered into the Back Street Bar, he was humming the tagline…

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Satiricus was anxious to get over to the Back Street Bar. It wasn’t as if he badly needed a beer – even though the day was unbearably humid and hot – but, once again, he figured he had the ammo to finally defend his leaders of the KFC – Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat. In this new year, he would be third time lucky! “I hope you fella will now stop cussing out Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat for the sugar firings,” he blurted out as soon as he’d taken…

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Satiricus was quite upset: What right have these foreigners to meddle in Guyana’s affairs? “What we do in Guyana was our business, wasn’t it?” he fumed, as he made his way to the Back Street Bar. As he took his seat at the table, where the fellas had already created a decent forest of beer bottles, he blurted his concern aloud even before starting on his beer. “Calm down, calm down Sato,” said Cappo, as he shoved the bottle towards his friend. “A who yuh a talk ‘bout? De Indian…

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Satiricus was hoping the new year would see the fellas easing up on his case. Heck, it was a free country, wasn’t it? So what if he’d voted for “change” and had gotten “exchange”? He reckoned his leaders Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat didn’t have any experience in government, and would pick that up in time and do better. At least that was the thought he shared with his friends at the Back Street Bar. “Budday!” exclaimed Cappo. “If dem na gat experience and dem t’ief mo in two year…

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