Meanwhile it is summer in Mazatlán and for those of us suffering we can read the annual 'how to cope with a Mazatlán summer' article in the local expat rag. The writer of which seems to have fully acclimatized to it to such an extent that his air conditioning unit is actually switched to 'heat' as he now finds it a tad cool. In a previous blog we suggested the easiest way to cope was to hire a punkawalla fresh from the Indian subcontinent but now as we have air conned our office to within an inch of its life we can spend blissful days in arctic conditions and have no need for human powered fan-wavers.
However in the interim much has been happening in this fine city of under the new Felteen administration:
The summer is here and our new city president Senor Fultime (who used his position at Jumapen and its database of 10s of thousands of client's emails to illegally lobby voters to vote in his favour and probably tip the balance his way) has put forward his first Feltin Public Awareness Campaigns 2013-2014 for ways of surviving the 'big heat' and other useful ideas to live a better life in Mazatlán..............
Good tips for baby, he suggests, if you live in a luxurious NoMa apartment lording over the riffraff, is to build a cage and stick the thing (baby) in it outside so it may catch the cool Pacific breezes and probably be pecked alive by our wonderful boiled headed turkey vultures, shrieking Kiskadees and squawking Grackles. One can close the window and forget about its screaming for a few days allowing the wee tike to luxuriate in its own surroundings soaking up the atmosphere of the great outdoors.
more crap after the break
Vitamin D News
Another baby tip suggested by the Feltin Public Awareness campaign 2014 this summer - Baby needs vitamin D
As it is too damn hot to venture outside for those poor enough to unluckily live at ground level is to hire the Ayuntamiento de Mazatlan's cast-off Russian cosmonaut sun lamps and nuclear bomb viewing goggle that were picked up cheap by Feltin's cheapskate cronies from the ruins of Chernobyl and give baby that much needed dose of UV to replenish the toddlers' vitamin D supply.
Many of the poorer Mazatlán residents need help to pay their Jumapan water bill this summer due to the increased cool showers one must take to cool off. Sometimes they cannot pay and extreme measures have to be taken to get the loot as this hastily snapped picture was taken of Jumapoon repo men forcing their way into a poorly paid expat maids house. The photographer luckily managed to get away without being shot dead by the trigger happy goons.
His Holiness Lord of Darkness Foltin issued a statement denying this was his men using force but it is his men wiping their feet on the doormat before entering as this resident had placed her mat halfway up the door and not on the ground as the place one usually places the item. In a further statement he said that the non-payee was lucky not to have been sued because the nice officer near twisted his back in an effort to get the dust off his feet before entering to nicely give the lovely woman a six months stay on paying. He even went on to say that he will be paying her bill as a 'nice' gesture but she would have to goddamn pay for the destroyed door from the foot wiping action.
As a result of the burdens placed on the Mexican healthcare by the millions of unhealthy expats who have used to their advantage the system to replace the hips and knees put under extreme pressure by the extreme weight they support, it was decided by Dictator Feltoon that the cheap payments made be diverted to conditions that reflect that amount we pay. He, wisely, has draughted in combat surgeons from Médecins Sans Frontiéres nd Cuba to catch up on the backlog of procedures from inside a bunkered hole in the ground. The Administrations goons picked up a job lot of rusty second hand hip steel from the trenches in The Great War to aid in the effort. He said that this may deter the frivolous law suits that North American citizens are directing towards the Mexican Healthcare system because they have in the past had to share a hospital ward and bed pan with the common people and now that they are 'mended' [sic] in a wartime bunker under wartime conditions by war surgeons, peace time law does hold.
Foreign News from Up and Down Under
SCOOP!! An ex-expat hailing from that fine country of Ozstrylia who was seen the back door to Mexico for being a complete twat has been unearthed sneaking himself a little closer to the country he always considered his home where-in he can easily sponge off the generous minded expats. This picture was posted from Guatamala where him and his drinking companion a Rhode Island Red called Red were captured. It seems no human is willing to put up with him so he has taken to befriending feathered fowl who are unfortunate enough not have had previous knowledge of his dodgy shenanigans. When he and them are well pissed he can then eat the tasty fowl as a roast dinner. His last boozing pal was a road kill skunk that was soon frying in the skillet when it refused to go and kick a ball around the beach with him.
His Great Elephant and Holiest Of The Holy Darth Felteen has issued a presidential decree that all restaurants have to have bands to accompany the food. This, he said, keeps musicians out of having to wander the streets in that 'Mariachi' kind of a way.
As all the oldie expat restaurant food accompaniment blues bands have disbanded due to the chance of getting a heart attack from performing ZZ Top and CCR covers to diners in extreme heat much to the relief of the diners. The remaining expats wannabes who are accustomed to the heat have been ordered to get together jug, skiffle and bluegrass bands of their own.
The half-baked incognito entertainers (wearing false beards so they will not be recognised and later ridiculed by their more experienced fellow musicians and unions) generally have cobbled together enough musical instruments and metal crap to to produce a sound. The Plazuela Machado restauranteurs without a nod to the paying customers are so desperate to give their diners accompanying music that these bands have been employed nearly every night banging and thrashing away like caterwauling half castrated cats wearing hob-nailed boots galloping across corrugated iron roofs. The MazReal offices are only 6 miles away and we can hear their ensuing racket.
This inventive expat from the far far north has realised his ambition to play like Ginger Baker of Cream after being given a nightly gig at Pedro's and Lola's. So anyone out there desiring to listen to a bald bearded man banging some petrol drums is welcome to dine at that fantastic restaurant. Bill is till looking for a couple of guitars and a fiddle and we think those ex members from that fabulous Irish combo B'Gorragh are interested.
One new restaurant has made an exception of employing old expats by finding this manic drummer cum kung fu expert who has been unemployed for so long that he begged on his hands and knees to be allowed to play. A Dezi Arnez look-alike from the now closed I Love Lucy restaurant is currently playing at the wonderful new taco joint cum hair dresser - D'lirium - on Sixty Obamas. He doesn't mind, he said, to being told to fuck off and leave me in peace as long as he gets a few centavos in tips as he is booted out through the servant's door.
Now that most of these musical expats are saving themselves and their ancient bodies for the return of the Snowbirds and the full houses in the Plazuela restaurants wherein they can once more play their olde geetar blues to with renewed vim and vigour, some of the more sprightly ones are taking novel part time gigs in air conditioned hotels using their knowledge and skill in contemporary jazz. Some hotels are employing these never-say-die guys to wake up residents who demand a wake-up call with a difference.
One such expat Zeke (not his real name) known for his Dizzy Gillespie renditions has been known to have a pillow stuck up his trumpet when he strayed into the free form jazz wake-up call of Ornette Coleman.
" Everything's copacetic in this wakin' up jazz business. I don't need the dough like and it helps me from being a drug-store cowboy when things here in Maz get slow.
Lee Morgan and Kenny Burrell got the edge because there is room for improv in their repertoire. Stan Getz just puts them back to sleep again but that is good for the 'snooze' option I provide. Sonny Rollins with a drummer accompaniment really gets them jumpin' outta bed. But that too can sometimes lead to punch in the mouth and loss of my dental bridge so you have to stand well back and be prepared to ankle it fast down the corridor.
Yeh man, I dig those gigs and they jump to the jive especially when a bearcat with bubs and gams needs wakin' up. Know what I mean? I find myself with a noodle juice and rubes if i'm lucky Heh Heh. Everything's jake Man."
More restaurant news has surfaced with El President's Feltin's newest policy that makes it legal for kids from the age of 1 to train and work as bartenders. This allows impoverished families to make money out of their children. El Director The Grand Architect Feeltin said he got the idea from Victorian workhouses and went on to say that if it was good for that great empire who ruled over two thirds of the globe then it is good enough for me and my visions of building a Feeltum empire based here in Moozatlán, the land of the deer and the free.
El Cerviche Basket on Olas Altas has employed this city's first half-pint barkeep seen here clutching a tumbler of West Virginee Gut Rot. Being so small he has to scamper along the bar top slaking the thirst of thirsty Mazatlecos.
Good on yer Lil' Jaime.
Water Bill News
In the increasing heat the demands on water usage has increased to such an extent that El Wizard of Zog Feltun, head of Jumoopan and President of the Planet has had to justify the raising of water prices by publicly unveiling the newest technology to help bring down the prices by automating the workforce. His Wondrousness has bought, he said, the world's latest automated abacus cheap and second hand from the sale of China's Long March To Freedom discarded water and bean counting machine. When Mao massacred all the intellectuals there was no one left who knew how to operate this latest 30's technological wonder. It comes with 20 Chinese sacked Apple Inc workers working inside this fantastic machine. This machine, he gushed, will bring about a one percent lowering of your monthly bill by the saving of laying off 300 Mexican workers and paying the Chinese interior slave contingent 100 grams of rice and dried shrimp a day. He went on the proclaim that as water comes free from the clouds to everyone it is in my remit to charge as much as I can get for it to ensure it reaches your home in a non drinkable state and the Chinese slaves are helping me do it. All Hail Wen Jiabao and the Apple Corp slave wages that allowed this to happen.
The two 'technicians' ( Chief Feeltoon's sisters recently presented with an instant degree in Quantum Physics from the Uni of Moz) are applying the finishing touches to the installation of the machine using only the Mandarin instruction manuals and Google translate.
Public Awareness News.
The Fultin Public Awareness Campaign is in full swing and new posters have been surfacing. His spokesmonkey said that we are using Mexico's best and cheapest unknown design agency working out of El Walamo to publicise our health campaign with some great designs. Here is an example with its accompanying text of how best to cure the deadly affliction of ammonia. One must use the simple remedy of turpentine and hog lard and simply get a friend to spread it all over and sit around outside till you are covered in flies.
This was the reaction from women to our pre-campaign test poster of a naked man resplendent with an enormous penis that reflects the macho country we live in so we felt it expedient to remove all the naughty dangly bits. It works well now that we are living in an enlightened democracy where young women and gay men are free to walk to street and having a man's privates splayed everywhere, we feel, would only have increased the lust in that group of people to such an extent when we would be overrun with overtly public acts of something or other too horrific to mention.
The King of Kings Feltoon Campaign News.
News reaches us that His Grace The King of Sinaloaland Feltoan is tired of getting out of his climate controlled russian oligarch limo to shake hands in this heat that he has commissioned an expat sculpturist to make him an animatronic arm like the one the Queen of England uses to shake hands with the great unwashed.
Things went awry as can be seen when the measurements were relayed in metric to the expat of a country who are the only ones on the planet to still use the good ol' Imperial system. The Mad Hatter Felthin, now speaking in the first person, said one was fucking happy [sic] with the 'shakin' hand' as its does elevate one's status somewhat. You see, he added manically tittering if Brother Jo Stalin could have one, why the hell can't one also have one. You see, he added again, one's shackin' hand is bigger than the one the Queen of England has, so there.
More Campaign news from the Feeltin camp. King Carlo Eduardin Gonzeelez Fooltin and his brother, the other whatsisname woodsman Feltin dressed in Davey Crockett bush gear, smile beamingly for this official publicity photo of the two of them as they shoot peasant workers with arrows.
Their message is that the way to combat gun crime in this state is to have a gun amnesty and issue everyone with bows and arrows instead. This he said, still allows those on the other end a sporting chance to get away. You see, he added, having an arrow removed from the arse or chest will be less expensive and less of a drain on the state health coffers than having a number of AK47 lead bullets removed. One just has to yank it out he added. A kitchen table is all that is necessary for your abuelita to do the job no less.
The King went on the prove his theory by shooting in the earhole a photographer (he aimed at tree thirty meters to the left). He strode majestically forward and without hesitation quickly and sharply withdrew the arrow along with the brave man's ear and said, there ye go me hearties, easily done har har har.
Baggage at Mazatlán International Airport is piling up the walls.
Mazatlán International Airport has apologised for the backlog of incoming baggage due to an newly scheduled extra flight coming in from El Walamo. The boss of the airport said the strain on the baggage handler by this weekly extra flight to our holiday destination of the stars has caught us completely unawares and we will do everything in our power by helping reduce the load on the poor man by maybe employing another man part time.
The new low cost airlines in question called El Shrimp Bucket International National that flies via El Walamo and Copala save money by employing specially trained ex-cosmonaut monkeys from the Russian space programme. We can save a shed-load of money by paying them in bananas and that saving we can pass onto the customers crazy enough to fly us. Here Captain Chimpo is seen safely bringing in his new turbo prop Boeing Thunder Bucket aircraft to land.
Fernando the handler said that he just manages the normal five flights a day on his own but this extra EL Walamo connection has tipped me over. I hope they may up my daily wage to 20 pesos. That added incentive ought to do the trick.
The boss reassured the passengers that their suitcase will be carried to their holiday door in person by Fernando. He just has to walk the 20 or so kilometres carrying this lot in his spare time and there you go. Your holiday he said will not be disrupted in any way.
To save the lives of innocent kids who are flattened daily by inept drivers we have brought in a rule to 'square off' the front tires of tricycles and bicycles and in some cases baby carriages in a bid to make the little children aware of the dangers of driving in front of dangerous drivers who do not have to take a practical test to drive a vehicle or even a petrol bowser he said whilst taking a deep breath from the long sentence. Adding, having a square wheel makes sure the cute little darlings cannot inadvertently drive under a swerving non indircating truck or under a ridiculous truck-sized SUV when the driver of said vehicle is texting or speaking on a cell phone whilst completely oblivious to his or her surroundings never mind a nice little boy on a trike with round wheels. I love kids, he added, and square wheels is the way to go. It may even catch on in Europe he added again. And I want to be in the forefront of social ideas in this wonderful country I rule.
Another local council initiative spearheaded by the Feltthreen clan suggests that Mazootlán can become the headquarters of the trade in disposing of unsightly kids. He said that if Indians from that great country of India are allowed to put their useless girl babies on the pyre then why can't we pursue a similar policy here using instead the less draconian measure of just putting them safely in a dustbin. The thrice weekly garbage collectors can then dispose of them on Mazatlán's own wonder of the modern world and soon-to-be tourist attraction, The Mazatlán Garbage Mountain. He added, up there is a population of wonderfully dirty and useless members of our society recyclers who work for nothing for the recycling mafia. Those people can then sell them into slavery. You see, he added, it is a win-win situation.
A New Year of Transparency - Inside The Feloonytoon HQ.
The honorable Senor Feltumn, His Majesty King of The Land Of The Deer has allowing MazReal unlimited photographic access to his New Mazootlán HQ on Ice Box Hill. ( He wanted to change the name to Capital Hill but it was to close to another one similarly named) Unfettered access was granted and all staff were ordered at bow and arrow point to act as though we were never there.
His personal secretary Greta, specially imported from some Slav country where smoking is mandatory, answers the phone while taking a puff on her specially designed Aztec cancer stick holder. The Aztecs took the fragrant smoke through the nose but Greta prefers to kill herself by inhaling it through the normal orifice in the face.
His bevy of secondary personal secretaries take a well-earned corn pipe, ganja and roll yer own ciggy break in the canteen. They are allowed to disrobe down to their undies if the whim takes them when it gets a tad warm in the summer. "His Maj positively welcomes us taking off our kit and having a fag and a joint. He will sometimes stand in the door for a long while just lookin'." one of them gushed in admiration.
The lunch break is a good time for two more of his personal secretaries to take a well-earned rubber at tennis and a cigarette break and a social chat over the net. "His Mojesty will sometimes come down and stand and gawp while we thrash around in our skimpy 30s outfits. He will encourage us to jump over the net sometimes in that Arthur Ashe kind of winning way."
It is no secret that The Feeltoon Gang are avid fans of the sport of Gentlemen's Pipe Smokin' Lucha Libre and this poster of Hurricane Ramirez sits behind his desk. The younger Feelthin said, "See that gentleman with his bow tie and little cap to keep the rain out his pipe, he could just as easily tear your arm from your shoulder and beat the shit out of you with the bloody end as well as have a fireside chat about philosophy. Ha ha ha." he giggled manically. Clearly sounding like a warning we hastily headed for the gents.
Here and below we can see some of the technology that went into helping the Feeeltinny man win this position of great power and influence. Secretaries shipped from the ex- Russian Republics who speak no Spanish so cannot be interrogated when the time comes, the private records of every one of Jumapeen's water users, a data processor unit from the set of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. and a hareem of secretaries with total loyalty to the Master of The Universe trained in the art of Shanding Silence, that deadly eastern art of not saying anything under pressure and water boarding.
El Chappie Feltiny Tim takes with him wherever he goes a train full of olde worlde banditos to watch his back. But as there is no train service in Mexico they tend to sit in a freight wagon on a railway siding just outside Mazatlán near the Thermal Power Station and just bide their time looking mean. They are allowed a lunch break and the weekends off and many have taken up knitting and crochet and keeping chickens to pass the time.
It was generally thought of as a viscous rumour that The Man has his own supply of tomatoes fearful there may one day be a rush on them. Most powerful dictators have at least one case of paranoia. Nixon had a few, so did Kennedy and Thatcher and the naughty North Korean dictator has a wardrobe full of them. Christ all mighty not to mention Uncle Joe Stalin. He was imploding with paranoid thoughts. So we can forgive the great man Filton for his tomato paranoia. He likes to keep this chunky ex-Lucha Libre ultraviolento and cage fighter woman called Boxcar Bertha around to make sure no one takes off with his precious Sinaloaense grown toms.
The Grand Master and Chief Officer poses in his space gear that he will wear to pilot the good ship Deer to extraterrestrial worlds. "You vil all kees my feet." said the Dude in an operatic Germanic way that he thought mirrored the Valkyres from that wonderful composer Romantic Mexican Carlos Knietzer.
MazReal takes no responsibility for the thrashing that this freelance reporter gave to the fictional messiah of Sinaloa and the lands two days horse ride in all directions.