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Rubbish . . . , bare rubbish!

todays vendorThere is an old joke ’bout a fella who was watching sports pun TV when he wife walk up behind he and lash he cross he head wid a frying pan.

“Woman, what you hit me for?”

Whereupon de wife produce a piece of paper wid de name Sara Lee and demand to know who de hell is Sara Lee.

“That is de outside woman I been hearing dat you have?”

De husband reply: “No, no! You got it all wrong. Dat was de name of a horse I bet pun at de Diamonds International race day pun Boxing Day. Jacob Hasid from Diamonds gave me dat tip!”

De wife apologize and went back to de kitchen; but an hour later she walk back in de living room, and wax! –– another lash wid de frying pan.

Hear de husband: “What de hell yuh hitting me for dis time?!”

De wife had de frying pan in one hand and de portable telephone in de other.

“Yuh horse Sara Lee like she is a talking horse ’cause she pun de phone fuh you!”

A fella in Luton, England, got an unusual record. He is father, well sort of, to over 800 children. He says dat he been donating sperm fuh over 16 years, becoming a dad about once per week!

I don’t follow de donating part, ’cause he selling his “magic potion”, as he calls it, fuh 50 pounds a pop –– no pun intended.

And I wonder ’bout de women. Wunnah don’t check pun de genes and background of de donors before letting a body grow inside wunnah? Yuh know de old saying,like father like son.

Suppose he producing boy children and all of them  tek on de father’s genes. De world might end up wid 800 more sperm donors!

De funny part ’bout dis overworked fella though is dat while he mekking a good living from de village ram services, apparently at home de girlfriend was not happy; and so de relationship reached an unfortunate climax and de subsequent breakup was blamed on “pressures of de job”! Clearly, all dat glitters is not gold.

Dis past week I get an interesting email from a big fan ’bout what happen to de Market Vendor radio show. He write: “Wuh happen, Market? De New Year start an’ I ain hear yuh pun de radio. Ah hope you ain’t sick. I hear some peeple saying that you done wid dat; dat dey cant pay yuh nuh more.

“Then a woman, she say she hear you get fired because yuh say something pun de air. Then another one say yuh in court ’cause yuh get sue.

“Wuh ever happen, we miss yuh; so try an come back soon.”

I don’t waste too much time wid rumours; but fuh de record, dis was my reply: “Ah, the rumour mill I see is at work. No, I did not get fired; no, I am not in court; no, I am not sick; no, it is not about pay; and no, I am not done wid dat!

The show will return to a new location, coming soon!”

We Bajans got dis propensity fuh starting rumours. Dat one was sweet; not a shred of truth, but dat never ever stop a Bajan. So while I not gine steal Vic Fernandes’ thunder, I just gine tell wunnah to keep wunnah eyes pun Holetown, St James,
fuh a Capital experience in de near future!

De New Year start wid a bang. De Honourable David Estwick, aka De Pit Bull, had de airwaves hot like pepper dis past week. My favourite take-away phrase was “rubbish, rubbish, bare rubbish! looka, don’t get me vex, hear!”.

And pun dat note I say, I Market Vendor gone fuh now. You have a blessed and a wonderful day, yuh hear?

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