The Secret Blog of Patrick “Patos” Manning

What a day. First there was the matter of getting the grand piano from my house back to the Prime Minister’s mansion. Without being seen, that is. Luckily we were able to use the underground tunnel the Chinese built from the mansion to Calder Hart’s house in Cascade. The latter wasn’t hard to access, thanks to preliminary work done on Calder’s front gate by the gallant Ishmael Samad, but getting the instrument from the tunnel entrance back on to the stage took some doing. So let’s hope Ramlogan will get off my a$$ now.

Back home from the piano caper, I turned on the computer to check on my Farmville livestock only to find scores of messages from members of the ex-dictators Google Group. The main topics of discussion were deciding on an appropriate username for incoming member Zine El Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia, and whether we should purchase additional server space to accommodate the influx of Arab dictators some list members believe will take place in the wake of Ben Ali’s overthrow. Then there was a drawn-out discussion about this eventuality, with one faction within the group (Noreiga, Charles Taylor, Imelda Marcos) saying we shouldn’t hold our breath for this to happen, and another (Baby Doc, Jean Kambanda, Jorge Videla) saying that it was only a matter of time.

The group ended up voting 20/18 in favour of buying the extra server space, which of course raised the perennial question of who could pay for it. The usual song-and-dance ensued, with Imelda Marcos volunteering to sell off a few pairs of shoes to cover the costs (a totally ridiculous proposition, considering that Imelda’s shoe collection these days comprises a few dozen Havaianas flip-flops), and somebody else offering to unfreeze funds in a Swiss bank account that all of us knew had been depleted long ago by various attorneys, reparations payments and greedy ex-wives. The most workable suggestion came from Kambanda, who said he’d e-mail Laurent Gbagbo and see if he’d foot the bill on our behalf, seeing as he’ll soon be joining our ranks.

Then I had to leave for parliament, where my siesta was interrupted by the other members of the House conducting government business, and where, alas, they no longer serve pone at tea time.