Did you know that [counter] people have been having a skeg at my little autonomous region?

  

Prisoner

20/11/2012

I feel marooned. I feel like I am stranded on a hostile island inhabited by savages. Only the hope that someone will come and rescue me and take me to a place where living conditions are more civilised enables me to endure this hell.

Constantly I long to be transported to a land where I cannot hear the primitive groans of Paul McCartney incessantly singing Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time or feel the lining of my nostrils decaying under the foetid stench that emanates from a LUSH soap shop as I walk through a shopping centre. With every breath I yearn more and more to escape to a land where the gods are less hideous than our John Terry, Nigella Lawson and Bruce Forsyth. My heart aches for a civilisation where the elders are not greedy, ridiculously wealthy, over privileged, society destroying, sleazy, slimy, self defiling ex public schoolboys. My gut craves food that is not poisoned in factories and drink that isn’t the bile of a multi-national corporate chain of twats.

I know an island where the people are kind and the rest of the world seems far away. Maybe it’s only in the back of my mind but I know when I go that’s where I’ll stay. “C'mon, c'mon" dice la Inglesa. "C'est bon, C'est bon" dice la Francesa. "Ay, que lindo" dice la Cubana singing far away. Que buena fortuna. Esa es mi vida. Como el mambo de la luna.

But at the moment I am unable to leave this septic isle because I have sent my passport away with my application for a visa to enter the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. I know it will be worth it in the long run but since I handed the envelope over to the fairly attractive though slightly grubby and downright miserable lady in the post office yesterday morning my claustrophobia has cast me into a torturous febrile state.

My suffering has eased slightly today though as I got an email from a lady called Theresa (always my favourite Vietnamese name) to say that she has received my beloved passport and she will look after it for me until it is all stamped up by the powers that be and it is ready to accompany me on my trip to Indo China.

Please hurry Theresa. I’m a desperate man. I’m a prisoner.

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