Category: Satiricus

Satiricus was bemused at some latest news coming out of Wales, the sugar estate that had been closed so abruptly by the Government. His buddy Bungi had a vested interest in those goings-on, since he’d worked all his life in the industry. Satiricus figured ruefully that, for Bungi, he had seen the future, and it was Wales. Maybe he’d be able to clear up the news during their Back Street Bar gyaaf. “What’s really going on at Wales, Bungi?” Satiricus asked as soon as he’d clinked his first beer with…

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Satiricus knew he was headed for dangerous waters. But he had his answers all ready for the onslaught he knew would come down on him, once he got to the Back Street Bar. His better half, Caustic, had already given him more than his fair share that made him speed up his exit from his house and hearth. He wasn’t disappointed. “Suh wha’ mek Rum Jhaat na just resign?” Bungi demanded even before he could get comfortable, much less begin on his beer. “’E a wan real waste!” “What are…

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Satiricus was literally scratching his head. He and the fellas had been throwing back at the Back Street Bar for the better part of the night and the words had become a bit slurred and the thinking fuzzy. With Irma following Harvey but doing most of its damage in the Caribbean, they’d been commiserating with their fellow West Indians. It had taken its toll on them! “But thank God, it’ll soon be over,” said Hari with a loopy smile. “Let’s drink to that!” “How yuh suh shore ‘bout da?” asked…

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Satiricus was exhausted. He shuffled into the Back Street Bar as if in a daze, as his buddies watched him anxiously. As he plunked down into his seat, they waved frantically to the waitress to bring a cold beer in the hope it could revive the clearly “out of it” Satiricus. “Ah wha’ wrang, Budday?” asked Bungi solicitously. “Yuh look like yuh bin a wuk a backdam fuh wan week!” “Worse!” groaned Satiricus, as he downed the beer in one swig and signalled the waitress to bring another. “So what…

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Satiricus was still smiling after looking at the Tridents vs Patriots game. He still hadn’t gotten used to seeing Gayle on a team other than the Tallawahs, but this was Franchise cricket, he’d reminded himself. Before the game he’d known his Warriors were practically a shoo in to get into the playoffs, but that “practically” grated on his nerves. Now that the Tridents had been dented beyond recognition, his heroes were on their way to go all the way!! “Hey! That was some shellacking that kid Evans unleashed on the…

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Satiricus was ecstatic as he hurried over to the Back Street Bar. This was a special time of the year – IT WAS WARRIORS’ TIME!! The fellas’ favourite team – bar none – would be arriving this week for four games, and today was the planning session for the four days they’d be going to the ball game. This was like a campaign, like in that movie on the Dunkirk landing that ended WWII!! “Well chaps, ‘e all come dong pan abee, yuh know,” said Bungi. “Dem bais play all…

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Satiricus was quite excited. Here it was, he’d always been hearing about the “Magnificent 7”, those seven mysterious gunmen who’d gone into the poor town to rescue the inhabitants after that dastardly robber baron had slaughtered so many folks. They’d tried to prevent him stealing their yellow gold in the ground. But here it was, our own Guyanese “Magnificent Five” had just ridden into the heart of Texas to take on that nefarious robber baron Nexxon, who was threatening to steal the black gold under our seas. “Well, you have…

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Satiricus was a sucker for tradition. After all, why else would he so faithfully patronise the Back Street Bar with his buddies. He figured, just like how the neighbourhood Pub was a fixture all over England, this was the role of the local Rum Shops in Guyana. It was a “home away from home” for the men who toiled hard all day long and needed to unwind at the end of the day. “Our national poet created most of his best poems in rum shops, you know,” Satiricus confided to…

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Satiricus was mulling over the latest Camp St Prison breakout. His leader Rum Jhaat was still under fire, but fortunately, he thought, this GECON judgement was going to take the heat off him. At least over at the Back Street Bar where he was headed, after his day of toil. If he steered the conversation in the right direction. “Suh how come Rum Jhaat an’ ‘e bais nah ketch dem four criminal yet?” said Bungi, not giving Satiricus time to get settled. “Budday! Is only a week yet!” replied Satiricus…

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Satiricus was very happy. There was always a silver lining behind every dark cloud, he thought with satisfaction. After the blaze, the Government was going to rebuild the Camp Street jail, enlarge the Mazaruni Penal Colony and reinforce the Lusignan Prison. There were now going to be more than enough space to put away the bad guys and he and his pals at the Back Street Bar didn’t have to worry about being overrun by bandits. “Budday! Rememba how dem bandit bin shoot up dem big man a Nakoo Bar?”…

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