Cost Of Living Survey, Pseudi Yarubeer

01/10/2014 08:14

Cost Of Living Survey, Pseudi Yarubeer


After Bullitz language skull `headhunted` me in accordance with the British head chuck occasion system, whereby those who showed any sign of having the intellectual wherewithal to escape wage slavery were consigned to be wasted, like basketballs in wastepaper baskets, I signed a contract to be their Local Manager of Instruction (ILM) in Riyals, Pseudi Yarubeer (`ilm` meaning `the wisdom of those with heads`, amongst the Yarubusout people there). After rejecting twice as much dosh to be installed as `Bean` of studies at the Konk Pseud Universe City (SUK), so named because of their Oil, whose noses on wheels permitted its slaves to run off from its spy tin face’s monocular vision of a return to what had just passed it on the motorway to more of the same, I arrived in the Yarubusout city of Riyals to attend a medical identical to that which I`d had in Harley Street, London, before I left Europe. In Riyals it was 180 SAR (30 GBP), but in London I`d paid 600 GBP, and Mr Sherriff, director of Bullitz, refused to reimburse, despite Mrs Ickbals of Rich Gent`s visa processing informing me that Bullitz paid medical costs for those they employed, and Bullitz had flown me several thousand miles by modern day magic carpet (Flyinass Airlines) to sit in a glassed in cubicle next to the stud`nts` toilet so everyone could marvel at Pseudi openness.



 There was always an opening for a diligent teacher at Bullitz, I observed. I`d arrived as `This one,` which was what The Sherriff unerringly referred to me as in introductions, and apparently was the definitive article for all native speakers of English language when one or other of us was the subject of discussion. `I`ll leave you with this one,` I yawned breezily as Gorp, `The American`, became the focus of Mr Sherriff`s attention, after I`d refused point blank to countenance the idea of sharing a room and a goldfish bowl with a cousin from the continent across the pond. The oily richness of Sheikh Al Capone hadn’t evidently extended to providing enough remuneration for non-homosexual ELT teachers from the Western hemisphere to pay for a single hotel bed out of the sum allocated as accommodation allowance by Riyals` Bullitz:


`Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Up stairs and down stairs in his night-gown …`1



 Inured to the exotic sight of the male Yarubean in its white thob, which is the garment they wear that makes them all look like `Wee Willie Winkie`, in his nightgown from Western literature`s The Golden Treasury Of Children`s Nursery Rhymes (c. 1806-), I`d developed the opinion that Yarubeer was there to teach an infant how to wash its hands before going to bed. I preferred a solitary goldfish bowl at Bullitz, where I could be seen splendidly isolated by thob path room, that is, the path to the bathroom where one washes one`s hands before retiring. Obviously cheaply too, so that the homosexuals have an opportunity to bunk in with you. I thanked God for `The Sherriff`. At least the bathroom was policed so that no one could sleep with you without washing their hands. Topical, I thought, with ISIS, the Independent State of Iraq in Syria, rebelling against President Bashar Assad, whose family name, `Wahash` meant `beast`. Obviously, `the beast` of Revelation was still trying to wahash its hands of the hole thing, but ISIS was having none of it.



 Indeed, Egypt wise, the mythology of Isis, the mother goddess, is pertinent. Having been dismembered, her brother Osiris was given a new penis by Isis, which suggests the old one had fallen apart, because he hadn`t been washing his hands properly. Obviously, `Wahash`, the `beast`, was being berated heavily by ISIS for failing to maintain adequate plumbing, which wasn`t altogether a wild hypothesis. If tanks and guns are translated as penis contaminated by that rejection of the love of women known as homosexuality in men`s sterile preference for whatever might pass for social intercourse between such alien minds as they`re possessed of. Indeed, Osiris was dismembered by his evil brother, Set, which translates in the toilet humor of Egypt John socio-history as a dynastical struggle for power, and so ISIS`  telepathic brain controllers’ attempts to remove `Wahash`, `the beast`, from the path room, where he was washing his hands of the hole thing, had political antecedents relating to the need for government leaders, in this case Bashar Assad of Syria, to maintain civil life without recourse to tanks and guns.



 Terrorism has its devotees, as English language teaching professionals are aware. Spending 600 GBP on visa processing costs and a medical to discover that 30 GBP will do the same job in Riyals when a Pseudi residence permit is the prize, that is, the iqama, suggests to the perspicacious that the journeyman teacher is being terrorized into paying for permission to work for a slaver by unscrupulous agents at home and in the Muddle East; especially if the educator is being encouraged by false promises of reimbursement for costs associated with getting to the country of employment. `This one` enjoyed the usual delusory three days in a hotel, Drr Rump, with the bill expectantly placed in his hands by the hotel management, who spoke Yarupric, while the teacher`s hunted expression revealed his lack of certainty over Bullitz`s inevitable reimbursement. The teacher`s hunted expression did reveal absolute knowledge concerning the mafiosa, who`d doubtless be employed by the Drr Rump hotel to pursue him headlong about the ways and byways of Riyals; if Bullitz didn`t settle the matter satisfactorily with the requisite wad of cash.



 Bullitz had fiendishly devised an online training program for `This one` lasting thirty days, but after an inexplicable administrative delay, and finally logging on around the 11th August, `This one` was ordered to complete the online training by the 18th, because Practicum would be performed by `This one` that morning, with the Pre-Reading necessary for the Bullitz Method to be fully ensconced in the bonce of the performing teacher attached as a downloadable .doc to an e-mail the evening before. Dutifully, `This one` arrived at Bullitz and gave the requisite demonstration of the Bullitz Method to a class of his peers with five minute preparation time, `I`m with the Bin Laden company,` said the examiner. Sweating profusely, and checking his heart periodically, `This one` managed to give a performance of the Bullitz Method sufficient to allow him to teach several of Bullitz`s levels to groups of stud`nts from the famous HARPIC company that makes toilet cleaning detergents for the bathrooms in Riyals.



 Called ‘students’ in English, the unappetizing sight of previously bagged women, in the garment they call a ‘burkha’, and which they wear in outrageous displays of taunting towards the car nibblers, who drive in to MacDonald’s, and other fast food emporiums of that ilk, for a bag of buns and some meat in the sandwich, has caused Yours Truly to rename the students, ‘stud’nts’, because they’d rather the teacher didn’t husband the livestock. Yarubusout prayer time, of course, demanded absolute cultural sensitivity from the teacher, while stud`nts, staff, and ancillary workers hurled themselves upon the carpet at every available opportunity to stress the desirability of the educator`s converting to the `Slammer, and becoming a Muzzlem in order to keep his job and maintain a standard of income allowing him to put his kids’ skull thru and pay the mortgage. Sweating profusely in the murderous dog day aternoons, where the Muttawahs enforced prayer times five hours a day to make sure their Muzzlem people remained muzzled, the teacher sought refuge at the reception desk, where the Fillupyournose (with coke) Yarubean ‘houseboys’, were employed to put more emphasis upon the native English speaking teacher`s distance from their own more helpful homeland.



 The importing of recreational drugs is punishable by death in Pseudi Yarubeer, which is a sure sign that the Fillupyournose are doing a lot. `Better the TEFL your nose,` I observed to the receptionist, Gnomey, who responded sniffily, `This one is Level 2.’ `No,` I agreed, `Level 5.` Bullitz had explained that HARPIC had their own levels of stud`nt achievement, while Bullitz had theirs, which meant that HARPIC`s Level 2 was Bullitz Level 4, although my HARPIC Level 2 stud`nts were Bullitz Level 5, because they`d advanced further since they were given to me as Level 2 HARPIC stud`nts. From my vantage point in the glass bowl by the bathroom, wearing the MP3 player that the SUK would call me an `orange` for listening to, because they rather wanted to block my years in the style of Shah Jehan who, according to the 8th century collection of folktales known as 1001 Nights, beheaded his wife for allegedly listening to the sound of his brother`s wheels going around instead of his, I surmised that the HARPIC stud`nts would reach a level of proficiency commensurate with their efforts, and the MP3 would be replaced by the juice of the electric chair: `Woman is the Chew of the world,` I observed to no one in particular. `Yes’, no one paused, ‘and she`s a marriage to an orange.`



 At the SUK I`d been observed by one of the wild bearded self-proclaimed religious police, the Muttawahs who, having put the women in burkhas, are the berks who bark at them to kneel and pray for hours; at Fajr (dawn), Zuhr (noon), Asr (afternoon), Maghrib (twilight), and Isha (night): `Bums in the air; haven`t got a prayer!` The SUK’s Muttawah accused me of listening to the MP3 player poking out of the top pocket of my shirt. Making a note of it on his observation sheet, the wild-eyed loner at the gates of oblivion had filed his report with the administration. Assured that, if I accepted a verbal rebuke for listening to the MP3 player, nothing further would transpire, I cheerfully admitted that the MP3 player had been `On`, even though I hadn`t had the headphones attached to my lug nuts, so imagine my surprise when I received a written warning to the effect that I`d been caught listening to music in Pseudi Yarubeer. Sweating profusely, I checked the airport regulations to uncover whether or not I was courting the death penalty by importing Abba vidz. By the end of the semester, I`d been branded as an `orange` by the SUK, that is, suspected as being sympathetic towards the Chews, who were destined to be liquidated in the liquidizer as oranges that didn`t want to be greens, and so learn from the Yarubeans.



With catch up work to do the next semester, if I was to qualify as a `green`, who`re a type of Yarubeern djinn (qareen), that is, a `tempter`, which every Yarubean has, the Muzzlem administration brought up the little matter of the MP3 debacle, and I was downgraded to `red`, with no possibility for appeal, because the wildly bedraggled hairy Muttawahs of theirs had been tempted by their qareens (traditionally spiders) to erroneously descry music in my pocket. I didn`t mind. I didn`t want to be bearded so. The beards were always queuing at the barbers to please their spiders, which were their djinn growth, and I didn`t want to be given the qareen light for a BBQ at MacDonald`s with the burkhas. I`d be red, I determined, and dance awkwardly in an embarrassing way, rather than be categorized as an orange Chew singing to be liquidated.



 Historians view the Muddle Eastern culture of the Muzzlems in the `Slammer as a refusal to leave the Muddle Ages, and the sight of hundreds of Wee Willie Winkies trying to frighten the teacher like ghosts does suggest that head chuck occasional methods are somewhat outdated there. The Gran (6. 10 - 6. 30 p.m), dictated by the angels, according to the `Slammeric tradition, to the Brafit M’mumhad, contains much of the Old Mendedtoaster of the Chews and the New Mendedtoaster of She`sis, because he didn’t belong to anyone else but his mother, the Virgin Mary, who’d allegedly planned his Resurrection and Ascension to heaven, that is, popping up to heaven after being, ‘A bit browned off.’ Also containing the `hadith`, that is, the sayings of the Brafit M’mumhad to the Muzzlem adherents, their Gran was transcribed in just a little more than twenty minutes after She`sis Crushed, which placed it firmly in the Muddle Ages in terms of its origins. The Yarubean men in white think of themselves as real, while the women in their black burkha one-piece coveralls, from which only their eyes are visible in public, are treated as if they aren`t visible at all by men, who`re taught not to see the women as anything other than darkling shades, which means the culture depicts itself as a ghost of the past with a ‘black dog’ alongside it silently demanding explanation, because it`s muzzled in misogyny:


‘Well, I don’t know, but I’ve been told,

A big-legged woman ain’t got no soul.’2



 The ancient Greeks believed that the dead became shades in a place they called Hades, while the Crushteen paedophile belief was in heaven for those who shared in the spirit of God, and Hades or hell was for those shades who didn`t. Of course medical science would have to be kept at a level equivalent to crossing one’s fingers, so that no one lived for long, and then there’d always be a fresh crop of child slaves, but that’s why they were called Crushteen paedophiles. The Muzzlem distinction between men who wear white, and women who wear black, was an attempt by the `Slammer to define men as innately a part of heaven, while women wore shades. Because women produced children to be consumed in warfare; for example, between Bashar Assad`s Syria and ISIS, they were cannibals, while men were the parasites upon the human host. Moreover, the Yarubeans believe that they`re tempted by their qareen, that is, their spiders, whereas the evidence suggests that they are. Led Zeppelin’s ‘big-legged woman’ is the spider they worship, according to the Satanist rock group:


‘From the door comes Satan's daughter.

And it only goes to show, you know.’3



 The distinction between holy spirits and damned shades without a light bulb is a head chuck occasion system`s methodology, that is, no light from the bulb to show the human how to escape from its host womb slaver. She`sis` fate as the host at the `Last Supper`, before his crucifixion by the Rumuns, illustrates this. Born from the host womb of his mother, the Virgin Mary, She`sis offered `bread and wine` as symbols of his `body and blood`, transformed by the host womb of his mother, to his disciples, because food is what futanarian humanity was bred for. She’sis offer to help women escape from being milked by his producer, before his cross appearance as the mouse trapped, appears in the church service of Crushteenity as the `bread and wine` of transubstantiation. In this ritual, the `body and blood` of the petitioner is transformed into She`sis’ by the power of the spirit, and through the wine from the priest’s communion cup together with a wafer. She’sis was betrayed by his disciple, Chewedass, to the Rumuns, who nailed him to the cross on the hill of Calvary outside Jerusalem, and tortured him to death there, because She’sis was caught with a woman, ‘Leave her alone.’ (Mk: 14. 6) Chewedass wanted She’sis to reject the human host in favor of parasitism, that is, women who espouse death for their children in favor of cannibalism. His teaching was that humans weren’t mice to be caught by a gamer with a mousetrap. Like the English language teaching professional, She`sis was a teacher, while the Muzzlem system of ‘dog day afternoon’ Mutawahs doesn`t want burkha`d women, so has already wolfed down their futanarian species` penis. Distinguishing between men`s spirits and women`s shades, that is, parasitism and cannibalism, is descriptive. However, it isn`t educative.



 The Pseudization program is to replace foreign workers with Pseudis, which means Pseudis are parasites upon those who can perform those tasks they need to be performed, because their society would collapse if they weren`t. The system for companies is orange, green, and red for those who employ too many foreigners, that is, green denotes Pseudization, where parasitism upon foreign workers doesn`t occur. However, `orange` indicates a level of parasitism co-existing with Pseudization, that is, in terms of the metaphor, the Pseudis haven`t yet eaten the orange to replace it with a Pseudi worker, and so parasitism remains. The Pseudi solution is to replace the Crushteen paedophile with the Muzzlem, and so `This one` was an `orange` at the SUK eaten by the Muttawah, because he wasn’t muzzled, and so was able to observe that an MP3 player wasn`t the `Slammer to those Muzzlems who wanted his job as an English language teacher, and the ELT pro imprisoned.



 The unspoken assumption by the Pseudi employer and stud`nts is that the foreign English language teaching professional needs the cash badly enough to throw himself down upon the carpet with the rest of the Muzzlem adherents in the `Slammer and convert to the Gran and Allah, which is the name for God amongst the `Slammeric faithful, that is, wage slavery will convert the unbeliever and so less is more in terms of budgeting and payment. `This one` paid for a single hotel room for 3000 SAR (500 GBP) a month, while it cost 300 GBP to fly to London and back from Buttapes, ‘ALL BUTT APES’, Hungry, where `This one` resided, to attend a visa processing and medical at a total cost in London, including visa, of 900 GBP, before   it was even possible to countenance the possibility of getting to Riyals. Consequently, the initial month`s salary from Bullitz of 13, 000 SAR disappeared immediately in non-reimbursed visa processing costs; flights to and from London, and the initial month`s hotel bill. Encouraged to believe in the three month probation period, teachers are prepared to invest, but employers who can persuade teachers to pay all of the initial costs, and fees with false promises of reimbursement, don`t feel they have to honor the probation period, because they`ve nothing invested in it; apart from what amounts to an extended job interview. Consequently, a teacher can spend upwards of 1000 GBP to be told they`re surplus to requirements after a few days, and reducing the length of the training program to a few days facilitates the early exit of the teacher. If he shows no signs of accepting the telepathic commands to convert to the `Slammer, and so being in a `green` meant with everybody.




 Politeness is a useful defensive tool, because it assists the employee desirous of more lolly in his bank account to defer immediate conversion to the `Slammer. Consequently, the native English speaking ELT professional needs must deploy a huge degree of personable flexibility in order to avoid conflict with employers, and stud`nts whose sole objective is to get rid of him as soon as it becomes evident that the teacher isn`t so poverty stricken as to seek conversion to Allah and chuck himself onto the carpet with the rest of the spiders shortly after arriving.



 Although Bullitz seems an exaggerated distortion of a well known language skull`s identity, Bullitz Riyals tried to kill me. Without knowing that I don`t live in London, or somewhere else a little less expensive in Britain, the assumption is that it costs me several thousand pounds a month to live. I`d have to bow and convert to the `Slammer in order to pass probation as a soon-to-be-released prisoner of the system (the stud`nts call Riyals `The Prison`), if I was to make enough money to live in Britain, where the cost of living is 90% greater than it is in Buttapes, Hungry, or other places in Eastern Europe, and the rest of the world. Although the public are used to scams from the movies made in Hollywood, ‘Babylon’, such as The Sting (1973), starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman, where the criminal is `stung` by a gang of predatory revengers seeking redress for wrongs done to them, like those Marvel comic book heroes made into the film, Batman and Robin (1997), slave labor kills the professional man. With PhDs in Appled Linguistics, professors from the United States of America, and the other Western democracies, go to Pseudi Yarubeer, after decades in their respective head chuck occasion systems, with enough brainpower to earn enough money to pay their way. The Pseudis and their `Slammeric lackeys force their prison camp laborers to bow low to them on their carpets, or else they`ll sack `em and ruin their lives, which of course is why their women, formerly sacked when young, are burkhas at MacDonald`s.



 Although Pseudi Yarubeer is an extreme instance of the ELT professional enslaved, it`s the same story everywhere else. Working in the war zone of Livya after Gadaffi`s overthrow in 2011 for supporting terrorism, I was held at gunpoint for whatever was in my pocket, and the local language skull hadn`t yet provided me with a key to the house I was sharing with the other teachers, because it was a `perk` and they require conversion to the `Slammer before they’d begin treating the teacher as human. In Khartoum, Sudan, local Yarubean backed Muzzlem military units trained their jeep mounted machine guns on me in 2008 as they zoomed down the street on the way to deal with insurgent black Muzzlem West African rebels during their civil war. The family at home wasn`t going to have bread on the table if the professor of Appled Linguistics arrived home in a bag full of holes. The air conditioning at the Al Forats petroleum company`s training center in Terrosaur, Syria, was so evil smelling in 2003 that, at the end of contract (EOC), I spent a day in a hotel in Damascus vomiting and thinking I`d die. Each day the house in which I was staying was woken up at 4.00 am by the Meringue in the square calling the faithful to prayer at the local temple of mosquito worship, the Mosque, where the mosquito was deemed the best approximation to the leech that was man by the devotees of their Gran, and so Allah was worshipped as a mosquito:  ‘We created man …  [as] an alaqah … leech …’ (‘The Believers’, 23: 12-14) As the English teachers lived in that house over there, the local Meringue was convinced that, if he made a row in the early morning, the whole bunch of us would be hurling ourselves downstairs and groveling about on the carpet looking to become better leeches.



 As the English have a similar concept in no bless a leech, which derives from the dead language of the Rumuns, Latin, from their Imperial occupation beginning in 55 B.C., and the subsequent leech lords of an Anglo-Saxon surf society, the Briti government`s training for English language teachers presupposed ELT professionals as gung-ho jingoistic baboons, who`d die for their country overseas as a matter of form. This was derived from a falsely romantic English public skull vision of conditioned individuals accepting a behavioralist philosophy more appropriate to that of the animals in Frenchman Pierre Boulle`s 1963 novel, La Planète Des Singes (Planet Of The Apes), than intelligent humans. 1000 US $ a month wasn`t going to pay any mortgage, so I found myself sleeping in a skip outside Binns’ department store in Konk`s Town-Upon-’Ull, after my tour of duty in Khartoum, Sudan. The English system for ELT professionals is that they`re not expected to own property or have families, but live as part of an intelligence gathering network. As the United States` Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) sent operatives to live `buried lives` in places like Cuba, before the US disaster at `the Bay of Pigs`, when they attempted to overthrow Fidel Castro in 1961 by military means, and after the deposing of the US backed Shah of Iran in 1979, and the coming to power of the `Slammeric fundamentalist rulership in the person of Ayatollah Khomeini. In simple terms, the UK`s policy with regard to educated people in the Humanities was to train them as ELT experts, and treat them as disposable adjuncts to their global aspirations as leech lords.



 Without asking the ELT professionals if they wanted to sacrifice their lives for Great Britain, the patriotic flag wavers just assume that they won`t mind being sacrificed - and sacrifice `em. Briti film director, Dayvid Lean, made the biographical movie of poet, T.E. Lawrence`s life, Lawrence Of Yarubeer (1962), starring Pete Rot `Oole in Hollywood, ‘Babylon’, as a celebration of a `Brit` in World War I (1914-18) asked to do a job of intelligence work for a country seeking to prevent German Imperialism from spreading from Europe to the Muddle East, but ELT teachers are sacrificed, rather than asked: ‘Do you want to sacrifice yourself?’ Modern communications means that governments no longer ask their citizens; they manipulate. Consequently, ELT professionals with qualifications in linguistics that boggle the mind, and where the local Crushteen paedophile hoodwinking mafiosa want A-B-C English, find they`re heads chucked regularly out onto the streets to sleep in a skip outside Debenhams in Cleethorpes, because governments have failed to regulate ELT providers. In simple terms, the onus is on the provider to provide teachers who can juggle; play the saxophone; ride a unicycle; provide simultaneous translation, and fly about the classroom singing the `Hallelujah chorus` from Handel`s ‘Messiah’: all at the same time. While the hidden agenda is that the provider works for `The Man`, who wants the ELT `pro` to pump clientele like HARPIC for favors and preferment in thob path room. Consequently, the ELT worker is the whore of the Muddle East prettifying the mafiosa language provider`s aim of pumping the clients, who come for cream and a bum to the skull.



 `Bunburying` is the term used by Algernon, the ingenious friend of the ingénue, Earnest, in The Importance Of Being Earnest (1895): Oscar Wilde`s comic play about ‘secret affairs’4. ELT professionals exude their charm, and personality, upon the clientele in the language provider`s belief that they’re unearthing a bone, and then it`s a burkha  in a sack on a ‘dog day afternoon’ for the professor in Appled Linguistics, who’s dodged the Muttawahs and the Muzzlems in order to ‘give a dog a bone’, as it were: ‘I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order that I may go down into the country whenever I choose.’4 The language teaching requirement to be applied is `A-B-C`, that is, to get the cream bone it’s necessaryto avoid being carpeted. Although the Briti government sent ELT professionals across the globe to look for ‘Bunbury’, as the elite brown nosers prepared to get the cream without giving themselves prostrate cancer, they discovered that the carpeting their Muzzlem hosts gave them wasn’t to censure their efforts as ELT teachers, but rather the already creamed bums, who were there praying to be delicious.



 The Sherriff put the ticket for the flight home to Buttapes, ‘WHERE THEY LIVE’, into my hands, and I asked for an e-mail to be sent with the web address on it for the boarding pass to be printed by me, `Why do you want an e-mail? I don`t understand.` The Sherriff began to get angry with the polite white stetsoned ELT pro, who now thought he could see a `black hat` beginning to appear on The Sherriff`s furrowed brow. Having bought a printer at the local Riyals Galeria on Abbadaziz street for 400 SAR (65 GBP) to facilitate the performance of my administrative responsibilities, I thought it a bit rich to ask, ‘Why?’ I wanted to know how I was going to print my boarding cards? I explained that I needed the e-mail to click on the web address to change my seats, if I didn`t like them, as well as print my boarding cards; to facilitate my trip. I`d kept the receipt for the printer; so I wouldn`t have problems going through customs. Even so, customs managed to drop the printer, and break it, and go through my luggage to find and break the clasp of my Busynessmen`s Gosh Hell Fellowship (BGHF) badge as the `Slammeric extremists cocked a final snoot at the Crushteen teacher, who`d traveled thousands of miles from Europe at his own expense to be vilified as someone who wouldn`t accept being carpeted by criminals, who wanted some buns and an occasional head to chuck.



 I finally obtained a promise that the flight ticket back to Buttapes` Fairy Head airport, Hungry, ‘WHERE THE APES’ BUTTS ARE RECORDED THERE’, would be e-mailed to me, although The Sherriff had suggested I type in the web address for the airline company, E-Gypped John’s, by copying it from the printed ticket, and he had become angry enough to demand an explanation as to why I wanted an e-mail sent to my laptop, rather than copy the web address for E-Gypped from the printout, `Because I don`t want to,` I won. Arriving at Bullitz, I was installed as ILM, without a desk top computer, and had to complete the Bullitz online training program on my own Compaq CQ58 laptop within a week before the Practicum at which I met the representative of the Bullitz branch of the Bin Laden company, and had to buy a printer, because the security was so tight around the photocopier (access code, 5-4-3-2-1), I just knew I`d have to fling myself on the carpet and beg Allah to let me use it. If I didn`t provide my own Panasonic KX - MB1500 printer-copier-scanner and fax-machine as well.



 Arriving at the airport, I discovered The Sherriff had pulled another fast one with Bullitz`s backing. Going through the check-in unconcernedly, I was turned away by passport control, because I needed an iqama, that is, a residence permit with my photo on it, to leave Pseudi Yarubeer. A ‘nig’ armor’s  protection ran out when I did, which was why The Sherriff and Bullitz had asked me to attend a medical costing 180 SAR (30 GBP). That was how you got it. Pretending to be non-plussed at not having given `This one` the protection of an iqama, subsequent to a successful medical, The Sherriff began demanding of me, `Why do you need an iqama?` `Because I need an iqama to leave, according to the passport control at the airport,` I reiterated for the umpteenth time. `Why?` Sherriff stuck to the guns of his `original sin`, which was that he`d identified me as someone he thought I was, that is, he believed that he could make me think in the way that he thought I should, which is the basis of Muzzlemen’s terrorist activity affording the protection of an iqama in exchange for abasement in servitude. The suggestion that I was confusing, in an attempt to confuse me, terminated when The Sherriff slipped the iqama to me as I went through passport control a second time a few days later. He`d told me I must go at 5.00 pm, although my flight wasn`t till 10.30 pm, because he had to speak with the airport police about my iqama with me present. However, even though the E-Gypped John’s flight was delayed until almost 1.00 am, there was no sign that anyone at the airport - other than The Sherriff - wanted me to be with them. I surmised The Sherriff had had the iqama since he gave me back my passport after the medical, because that`s why language skulls return the passport - with the iqama - to signify the status of a slave who accepts the protection of the `Slammer, and the Muzzlem people of their Gran, who they believe was a spider that emerged from a box in Me car, and who no one should escape.



 In Riyals my debit cards went missing after The Sherriff had asked for details of my bank account with the Erste bank in Buttapes, Hungry, ‘WHERE THE BUTTS ARE TAPED’, showing the transaction I`d had with Rich Gent`s visa processing, and medical at a cost to me of 600 GBP Euros plus 300 GBP flights, which  Mrs Ickballs had told me would be reimbursed by Bullitz. I`d forwarded a copy of my bank statement to The Sherriff, and shortly thereafter my debit cards went missing. As is usual with European banks, they send new debit cards to your address in Europe, so I was left in the hands of The Sherriff, and a Bullitz advance by increments as I eked out taxi fare and food consumption, while awaiting the end of the first month`s salary payment, which eventually surfaced at 6, 000 SAR (1000 GBP), and was enough to cover the first and second month`s hotel room bill. Although it wasn`t enough to cover a week in which I hadn`t taxi fare for Uncle Tom's cab, and so had to walk almost four miles each day in the blistering heat of Riyals, because I worked early (8-30-2.00 pm) and late shifts (6.00-9.00 pm), with an afternoon break at the hotel. The Bullitz scenario had been planned to present me as the gunfighter to The Sherriff`s Gary Cooper in High Noon (1952), with only Bullitz awaiting me at journey`s end. `This one` had worked for nothing as a wage slave, while living in terror of The Sherrif’s`Slammeric extremism at Bullitz.



 Osama, `Bin-a-Bad` Laden, was a Pseudi Yarubean, who engineered the Al Qaeda hijacking of civil airliners to mount a terrorist attack from his Taliban stronghold in Afghanistan upon the World Trade Center in New York on September 11, 2001, when his terror group crashed planes into the Twin Towers to precipitate war with the United States amid  global `Slammeric extremist terrorism, I reflected wordlessly, and the words of the examiner at my Practicum came back to haunt me, `I`m with the Bin Laden company.` I`d let it go, because I was an employee, and the `dummy` lesson required that I ask the dummy stud`nts, ‘What company do you wank for?’ `Bin-a-Bad` Laden was the Pseudi that virtually reinvented terror, and the Pseudis are reinventing it still. The city of Me car is the spiritual center of the `Slammer and, during Rubabum, the fasting month that follows The Hedge, that is, the pilgrimage to the temple of Amaninabra, who founded the `Slammer through his son, `E`smale, and Chewedaism through his son, I-pod, foreigners are told not to eat or drink publicly, while it isn`t ever polite to use the left hand when eating or drinking, or anything else either, because the Muzzlems are experts at cock-handedness. No one is allowed to look at a woman`s eyes, if they`re not members of her immediate family, because Muzzlems practice terror religiously, and their muzzled women, and the rifle muzzles of their right-handed husbanders, are everywhere in evidence.



 The Indian Kashmiri writer, Salmon Budgie, living in London under an assumed name, had a death sentence, or `fatwad`, imposed upon him by the oil rich Iranian Ayatollahs for writing the novel, Those Satanical Gerbils, which centered upon a few lines from `The Star`, Sura 53 of the Gran, that had been excised over the generations, because they related to the Me car goddesses, Allat, Uzza and Manat, and the actual reality of the possibility of sexual reproduction between women in the `Slammer, where marriages with four wives make it easier for `futanarian` women with their own penis` semen to have sex together, `Do you have sons, while God has these as daughters?` (l. 21) Salmon Budgie`s novel was banned, and himself put under threat of a death sentence being carried out upon him by the fatwads, because Muzzlem misogyny and terrorism is an institution, and the Muttawahs, who are the `Slammer`s unofficial religious police, are its experts in fundamentalist civil terror, while the notoriously misogynist Afghan Taliban trained Al Qaeda, led by Osama `Bin-a-Bad` Laden, were the governmental extremist edge to the scimitar it wields against civilian populations that disagree fundamentally in non-`Slammeric nations. When the district manager for Bullitz arrived to urge me on to greater efforts with the stud`nts, and warn me not to spend money on advanced payments for hotel rooms (500 GBP if you pay monthly, and 750 GBP if you pay daily), when I said I`d had my debit cards stolen he screamed, `Liar!’  He demanded that I go to the police; presumably to surrender to the torturers. I demurred, like a coward, because I didn`t want my teeth pulled out with pliers by several armed thugs, who I don`t want to shoot, and haven`t a weapon anyway.



 I was in Dalek, Pseudi Yarubeer, on September 11, 2001, instructing male army helicopter nurses for the North West Legged Forces Hospital (NWLFH), so that they would be able to speak English with the Americans and their allies during the ‘Vlad’ Putin-inspired Golf war that would occur after 9/11, and the subsequent `Crazy Golf` March, 2003, American invasion of Al Qaeda`s supporter in Iraq, dictator Saddam Hussein, who`d offered to run courses there for Osama `Bin-a-Bad` Laden`s terrorist group, and so the allies would depose and execute him on 30 December, 2006. ‘Vlad’ was believed to have been for Laden, that is, ‘Bin-a-Bad’, so Putin had putatively pasted a Golf poster of the Twin Towers onto the wall of the Dalek training center, which I asked to be removed before 9/11, because Pseudi Yarubeer, in the person of their proxy, Osama `Bin-a-Bad` Laden, had been responsible for the terrorist attack, and I didn`t want my efforts with the helicopter nurses mocked. `Bin-a-Bad’ had missed an ‘easy Putin ‘, as it were, when it was planes that should have gone through, but they hit the uprights. As the Chechnyan war with ISIL had ended in 1996, and the Rushon Secret Service were accused of restarting it after its former head, Putin, became President on August 16, 1999, 9/11 could have been part of the ‘Crazy Golf’ war designed to keep Putin in power.



 As the Chechnyan war didn’t end until 2009, and the subsequent pipe bombing of the Boston Marathon in 2013 was attributed to Chechnyans, Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev, the ‘Crazy Golf’ war was won by Putin. As the planes that were crashed into the WTC by Al Qaeda were hijacked at Boston, Logan, William F. Nolan’s 1967 novel, Logan’s Run, was the inspiration. In the science fiction yarn, Logan is a ‘runner’ attempting to flee a society with so-scarce economic resources that everyone is condemned to die before their 21st year. The planners of 9/11 expected to divert so much of the Earth’s resources into war that the expected happiness of a technological future would be stillborn, although Putin would remain holed out.



 Mysteriously, the `wifi` internet connection at the Ol’ Man`s Zeal hotel in Riyals couldn`t be made to function from my laptop, before the 5. 00 pm appointment at Dalek’s Konk Abbadaziz airport terminal 3 for departures by E-Gypped John with The Sherriff and an iqama, so `This one` wasn`t able to print the boarding cards, or change his seat online, which meant that `This one` had to sit where Bullitz had told him to all the way to Buttapes, ‘WHERE THE BUTTS ARE VIDEOED’, and a stopover at ‘Gyp, Cairo, for much of September 19th, 2014, before flying onwards. Consequently, Bullitz had effectively decided who I`d sit alongside on the plane, which added to the flavor of Muddle Eastern terror. I was pointedly asked to close the coffin lid of the eye of the windowed plane I sat looking out of as `fatwad` was secretly declared upon me by a Muzzlem seat companion. In Cairo my MP3 Walkman was examined as if it were a death ray pointed at the customs officers, with myself expected to sweat profusely and gibber and blubber like an idiot while removing the back of the plastic cover to show the terrorists the AAA battery that powered the dangerous audibility of the music machine banned in Pseudi Yarubeer as anti- `Slammeric unpleasantness.



 I was reminded of lunatic bus conductors in Wide-Open-Beaver, Yorkshire, where I`d bought my first Japanese Sony Walkman for 86. 97 GBP in 1978, before I met members of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), and sundry Iranian revolutionaries at ‘Ull Collage of Further Head Chuck Occasions (H.C.F.H.C.O), where the nascent Muddle Eastern terrorist organizations amongst the stud`nt body were feigning an interest in obtaining a Higher Chuck Diploma (HCD) in Marine Engineering preparatory to Al Qaeda`s hijacking planes at Boston, Logan airport, Massachusetts, and crashing them into tall buildings in New York. Clearly a `take` on the 1975 movie, Logan`s Run, wherein the people were directed by Michael Anderson to run to avoid being killed for being too old to run fast enough, I mightn`t have been asked to run a Marathon from Wide-Open-Beaver to ‘Ull and back each day, but the English terrorist bus conductors would stalk the passengers on their way to Collage from Wide-Open-Beaver like deranged maniacs. Detecting tinny sounds they either imagined or didn`t, they threatened to chuck your head off the bus; if they thought they could hear anything apart from the surly speechless passengers wheezing and grunting on their way to wheeze and grunt someplace else in the Forum Boarium of the public transported system on planet Earth. The Forum Boarium, of course, was the place in ancient Rome where the animals were driven to slaughter, like the airline passengers prodded through customs on their way to and fro across the planet, before they die of exhaustion. Eyes rolling back into their heads, they’d moo piteously at the heavens, while the passport controllers demanded to see their luggage ticket, or they wouldn`t get that big yellow suitcase on the carousel at the point of destination.



 In Cairo I was asked to surrender my passport by a controller temporarily, which meant a profusely sweating passenger arriving at Le Passage hotel for a few sleepless hours abed, before returning to departures to see if the passport was still usable, or had it been spirited away by terrorists keen to deploy it in some hairy airport siege? Like in the movie Raid On Entebbe (1977), where actor, Yaphet Kotto, has the role of the self-styled `King of Scotland`, Idi Amin, the Ugandan President, who`d pretended to be negotiating with the hostage takers, while the passengers were being chucked out of the plane with holes in their heads, before the Chews arrived in a 4th July display of `bloody oranges`, and stormed the aircraft to rescue the remainder of the captives. A fraught few hours later, after dealing with an airport staff, who directed me mercilessly away from the check-in desk for E-Gypped John’s flight to Buttapes, ‘WHERE THE APES ARE TAPED’, I finally found myself going up the steps to the plane and another mystery occupant in the next seat I hadn`t planned to sit with. I conjectured that Bullitz language skull had taken great pains to ensure that I wouldn`t be able to sit elsewhere. Even to the point of having the hotel staff at the Ol’ Man`s Zeal disconnect the `wifi` to make it unusable when I wanted to print the boarding cards and change my seats on the airplane using the printer I`d bought to deal with Bullitz`s incalculably devious machinations to thwart my being able to perform my duties as ILM. Before deciding I was `unsuitable`, but not unqualified for the job, presumably because I`d brought my own laptop, I’d taken and passed the online exam in the Bullitz Method to prepare me for the dummies in the classroom. To me it looked like a Briti citizen had been kidnapped by a terrorist group, and their life made hell for `forty days`, and `forty nights in the wilderness` (Matt: 4. 2), like She`sis I’d supposed, before the tempter, Satan, offered him the Earth, `If you will bow down and worship me.` (Matt: 4. 9) And possibly target my family for ransom as well.


1 Miller, William `Wee Willie Winkie` in Whistle-binkie: Stories For The Fireside, 1841.

2 Jones, John Paul, Jimmy Page, and Robert Plant `Black Dog’, Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin IV, Atlantic, 1971.

3 Page, Jimmy, and Robert Plant ‘Houses Of The Holy’, Led Zeppelin, Physical Graffiti, Swan Song, 1975.

4 Aynesworth, Allan as Algernon Moncrief in the first performance of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest: A Trivial Comedy for Serious People, St James's Theatre,  London, February 14, 1895.