Commentary

The Jackass and the Joker

JACKASS SEY DI worl' no level. Jackass sey dem bring een joka come tek wey fateful beas' wuk.

Woah! Bawl! Halla! Bray! Me sawy woooooooahhhhh, me belly!

Look 'ow long me dey yah. Look 'ow long me a try! Look 'ow me tan up a pass a carry wata wid me straw hampa' an a tek cussin' wen it come een empty an' de tilet wid Satiday breakfaas unda Sunday dinna cyaan gu dung an mi haffi go back fi more!

Look 'ow me coulda run whey nuff time wen de ol rope bus', but me tan up deh same way! Look 'ow me tan up inna Dennis an Emily rain wen oonu woulden let me eena de 'ouse wid de dawg (me care if him get haircut an pawdicure an' ride inna cyar, dawg a dwag), de puss, de roach an' de rat dem an still do oonu tuff wuk. Look 'ow me tek all de lafta bout me certin parts an no complain.

Look 'ow me try gi oonu joke, despite hall a me trials, me crosses an cyaan win de Lotto Luck (yu know sey mi start feel sey Elsa no wut it? Ha wanda if she eva buss de Lotto yet?). An' a dis hoonu really come do me?

A dis hoonu realllly come do me?

Woah! Bawl! Halla! Bray! Meow! Bark! Cock-a-donkey woooooo! Me say woooooooahhhhh laaaaaaaaaawd, me belly!

Faithful

The world is, my dears, not level at all. I, the faithful Jackass, have been giving you a weekly dose of humour for many moons, for which I have not been rewarded with even a little salt on my grass, and yet still they have brought on this professional joker chap to supplement me.

Yes, that Blakka fellow, with a kin teet' suspiciously like mine. He is writing something called the 'Blakka's Box' every Wednesday. Hmm. If ah eva tell him bout box yu see.

Real mash mout

Seriously, dear and faithful reader, how can I, a mere beast of heavy burden above and below, hope to tickle even one of they ribs now that this fellow has corralled them all for himself? How can I even hope to make one of your false teeth show when this fellow will have you laughing so hard that all of them will fall out and you will look like a real 'mash mout''?

Look at his credentials, from plays to poetry, from comedy to advertisements. Then look at mine, from yam to coco, from fever grass to firewood to make cornmeal for those scrawny mongrels.

I come up way short in comparison to this 'Blakka' chap (in most ways, at last. Wink, wink.)

But despite my travails, despite my troubles, despite my sheer terror at facing this menacing joker, I still find myself strangely eager to read tomorrow's STAR to find out what is on his fertile, fecund, feverish mind. He has a lot to say and, from what I read last week and what I see on the stage and screen, he does say it well.

The Jackass welcomes the joker, even dough yu a nyam me likkle food.

Jackass sey di worl' no level. Jackass sey 'im a try hard fi war de Joka, but de bredda too nice fi war wid.