Saturday Pics of the week


Snaps 1-3 are by Perkin Warbeck



Snap 1 (twist your neck)


Snap 2


Snap 3



One is pleased to humbly announce that one has received a thoroughly deserved  invitation to be in attendance at W.C. for  the Royal Wedding of the Yearlings.

What, in the name of a calculating machine, did Missy Markle of the Million Dollar Sparkler ever see in Halting-Site Harry ?

This has been the scurrilous  question on the lips of less than loyal latchicoes;  The Perkin, happily, has not been numbered amongst that low life lot. Hence,  the thoroughly deserved  Cead Míle Malta.      

Taking time off from tying one self up in knots from relearning how to tie a Windsor Knot in his neck tie,  The Perkin’s inner paparazzo (with the accent on the first syllable)  made his way recently to acquaint himself with  the lie of the land. 

SNAP 1:      A side-on view of Windsor Castle.

Bearing in mind that Samuel Taylor Coleridge had once been Chief Secretary of Malta back in the day, one’s inner Wedding Guest  was particularly anxious to ascertain the prospects of being gripped by the skinny hand of an Ancient Mariner.  Particularly one of Grecian demeanour who answers to the name of Phil in certain quarters and the Bossy Albatross in  the other five-eights.   

Another P-word was also on one’s mind: P for Paternity. Has there ever been a prenuptial week  so dominated by this particular P-word? In the case of Missy Markle the question  posed was : Will Pops turn up or won’t he? As for Halting-site Harry the relevant though unasked  q.  of course in the mouths of all QC’s re. C for Charles has been: Is one the Pater or is one the Pater, not? 

(For DeShawn in Harlem, that can be translated as: Who’s yo Daddy, bro?)

SNAP 2:    A full-frontal of Windsor Castle.                       

What one did discover,  however, across the road from W.C.  was a bust. Now, what gripped one’s attention  was not on account of the bust’s location – outside a Bank (for it was  formerly the birthhouse of the subject, an actor ) – but rather for a different reason entirely.  The fame of the subject rests  serendipidously on two  paternal roles – one actually, one putatively –  he played   during a stellar career.

SNAP 3:   The bust of Joseph Calleia.

Joseph C was a celebrated Hollywood character actor, famous for specialising in infamous villainous roles, during the 30s and 40s. Nonetheless  his versatility was such it  enabled him to play the odd comic role with a musicial slant. In 1953, for example, in  The Caddy,  he played  the father of Dean Martin. A fillum which first featured the immortal song: ‘That’s Amore’ with Joseph C. on the squeeze box and with its breezy first line: ‘When the moon hits your eye like a bigga piazza pie…’.

Then, twenty years or so later, when he had retired to his native Malta he received a telegram from an admiring  director who invited him to play the eponymous  role of a blockbuster he was about to embark upon. Unfortunately, infirmity prevented Josehp C from accepting the role. So, that’s how Marlon Brando got the crooked finger to come off the bench and play the part of The Godfather.

Incidentally, when or if Prince Charles enentually gets to don  the crown of a king he will also, as head honcho of the Church of England, be entitled to the sobriquet of (gulp) The Godfather. Unless, of course, the infirmity of the uber ancient, Dia idir sinn agus An Díobháil, prevents him for so doing.

To conclude:  RTE has enthusiastically in an unrestricted manner  cast itself in the role of Paddy the Caddy for Saturday’s dead  or alive  broadcast. This is only as it should be for those all those  lorry loads  of closet fans of  Corrie.

All together now :

-Here comes the Serial Bride with her Alimony Attorney by her side !

Celebrate responsibly, fellow Southern Yunes and other greybeard loons.

Perkin Warbeck.

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