November 12, 2005

Who da Man??

Dear all,

Let me put things straight from the get go. Let me tell you who da man.

I am the man! At the tender age of 24 I drafted a constitution. And gradually but surely everything went to hell as Stravaraland tried to implement it. Then, I became a minister (no, not as in God, but the contacts helped). Yeah, at 25 I was already ready, alright.

In 1970, a friend, fellow minister and an accomplished serial killer in his own right, was mysteriously 'whacked' (excuuuse me for being a mob movie fan) so I married his widow.

This babe was the child of a multi millionaire who made it in Nigeria (as well as with his maid) but what the hell; she was cute and I was under the influence. Add to this the tons of money she inherited and all was well on the farm.

Now I could make up for my lack of looks or style. I had money, power and a beautiful wife... Now you tell me...who's da man? Ha, ya bums, no more cheap suits for me.

Being a lawyer and a member of parliament to boot, I noticed one fine afternoon that the two major banks of Cyprus were on a buying spree for insurance firms.

The other lads in parliament were trying to pass an anti-trust law and la dee da. Haaa ha ha... I told the lads I needed to study the law and they let me take it home for a month. So, I took care of the bank deals which promptly became monopolies in the insurance business.After the M&A deals were done, I took the law back to parliament.

But this is hardly noteworthy stuff. Who do you think took care of Slobodan Milosevic's billions? Me, me , me, tat's who. Yep, I set up a dozen offshore companies for Slobo and the cash started flowing like wine at a Holy Synod party.

I made a fortune (UN embargo? What embargo?). Then, in 2003 my lifelong dream of becoming president became reality. The sirens, the fancy dress parties and even my favourite waiter from Shistris all joined me on the bandwagon.

A year later though, when I had 4 more years as a president, those EU bastards along with that odious Anan chap decide it was high time to solve the Stravaraland problem. The bastards just wanted to take away Cinderella's brand new BMW and turn him into an attorney again.

But, boy did I mess it up for the vermin! Soon enough they all realized that I am none other than Tassos the kavlantis... I took them all for a ride. I cheated EU commissioners, I named whoever backed the pseudo-solution a traitor, I cried on TV, used every trick in the book and I'll be president till 2008. Put that in your Scotch and Soda and choke on it, losers!

Hey, would you give up the presidency of a country? No way, Mustafa. Other dictators...uhm... presidents, such as that flat headed dude in Syria killed a whole village when they turned on him. Hey, at least I didn't kill anybody...No, never, and I've said as much in public.

So, you tell me... who da man? Jump up and down and say it, dudes... "TeePee da man!!!!"

Yeah, baby, yo' sugardaddy's buying the next drink!

Affectionately yours,

President of the Republix,


Anonymous Anonymous said...

A nice picture of a young Poly and Fotini would be suitable here.
(One with Poly's head intact of course)

19 March, 2006 09:33  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ou Stravara mou! Did you mention being a member of a "secret" group to "exterminate" T/Cs?

Nice blog guys!

09 April, 2006 23:40  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

A shot of comedy with a heavy dose of factual truth. Superb!

02 May, 2006 17:31  

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