He slept on the floor covered in straw in a house made of mud, with a roof of tree trunks covered with rocks from a river bed in a small, primitive village called Anez in Syria.
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Pricey: My defence is the truth
The delightful Rachel Price is on a kind of warpath in her current show, Queen. Armed with court clothes, she said in her show on Sunday night at Napa that her defence is the truth. She then proceeded to name names in just about every public scandal in T&T since the orange-juice tins turned up full of cocaine in Norfolk. “Ask a question,” she repeatedly encouraged her audience, implying the public and media too glibly swallow everything the government and other authority figures feed them.
The main auditorium at Napa wasn’t quite full, but there was no parking to be had in the lot—saying something about the size of the audience who came to laugh at the comedian’s antics and jokes. They laughed—loudly and often—but at several points during her monologue they broke into spontaneous and very serious applause.
Plenty of the things she was making into humour weren’t funny at all—thing to cry, we was laughing, in other words. We laughed at whores and weed, murdered nine-year-old “terrorists,” suspect housing application processes involving testicle-fondling and nipple-sucking, outside women making phone calls to horned putative wives, and more. This country, with its jokey politics and society, was a walking punchline.
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