You know when people talk about the honeymoon period. The bliss, the great happiness and total contentment. The period when you thought you’d married that most wonderful person in the world if not the whole god forsaken universe, until, you discover they came from hell if not the very centre of the earth or some other frigging alien planet called Shitsville. Well, the same honeymoon period can exist when you move to another country. But, let’s not misinterpret here, as some may think I’m being disrespectful of good old Portugal. No I’m not and perhaps far from it. Yes, in fairness to Portugal, I’ll repeat, far from it. But, and yet another but for emphasis, if you’re deaf, dumb and blind, you’re go____ing to have some problems unless you are a member of the blessed group that insist everything was perfect for them. Bollocks, get real and be honest. Sorry you lot, perhaps you just suffer from short memories. Deaf equals not understanding the language. Dumb is not speaking it and blind is fumbling around when you can’t find those connections leading to help and cooperation.
Okay, I’ve not posted in some time. The reason, I was admitted to an insane asylum simply because I started to bang my head against the wall continuously. It was due to the frustrations brought about by a lack of progress here in paradise land – Portugal. The doctors there, in the asylum, continually asked why I banged my head against the bloodied wall. I told them it was because my favourite colour was red, and they seemed to accept this far more readily than the explanation, I was going mad due to a lack of progress, and general inefficiencies. They, the medical profession assured me this latter excuse could not cause depression, upset or possibly require the necessary admittance into the care of such professionals and protection offered within a padded cell. No, my latter excuses were frown upon as the usual laid back attitude of the Portuguese could only lead to a tranquil existence of everlasting happiness and diminishing desire to progress. No, it was the colour red that could be the only true reason for my tumbles.
I’m out now. I escaped the madhouse asylum with a new vigour and appreciation of a county I truly adore. The people also I include. They are a people I consider most wonderful, but as always will exist – those less scrupulous.
I’m back now so perhaps this blog will take off again and especially so, as I’ve been incredibly busy doing works myself and not relying on them. Who is them? That lot, those people that can’t organise a pissup in a brewery let alone keep appointments or conduct any business in a timely way.