This week, legendary sports journalist Rod Curtis was my guest at the building site that I call home. Rod lives in Tirana, and drives the only car currently available in Albania, a black Merc. It’s been a pleasure having him here, except when he wakes me up at 4 in the morning staggering around the house in a drunken stupor trying to turn the lights out by punching them.
My neighbour Adrian was in our local supermarket last week. The nice ladies who work there informed him of their suspicions that the Muslim who lives in our village is a member of al-Qaeda. Adrian was naturally puzzled, since there are no Muslims in our village, until he realised that they meant me. Breaking it down:
Beard + Albanian car = member of al-Qaeda
I’m fairly certain that I’ll never be able to shake their suspicions, no matter how much evidence we present. On the plus side, it’s unlikely that anybody in the village is going to try anything funny if they think I might carbomb their house.
Tags: al-qaeda
I knew that beard would get you into trouble. Time for a shave? Sports journalists aren’t the usual choice of terrorist accomplice either, regardless of their mode of transit.
Hunter S Thompson wrote some sport. And he was a terrorist to the end, his ashes fired out of a cannon across the Aspen countryside. And I didn’t punch anything, all the noises just sound louder inside Paul’s cavernous, furniture-free mountain-top abode.
Sorry man, I am afraid you’re not going to travel to the US no more