FriendsJoanaYuri

Blog from Joaquim Santos

Joaquim... Quim for Friends... forgot how to do it in the blog...lost passwords and stuff... so he asked me if i could blog for him with this text...


WHY?!!! - Part 2

(I will continue the dialogue between the psychiatrist north-European and
its patient, whom desires to go live in Portugal. For those that can’t
understand the dialogue, I advise to read the text “Why?!!!?”)


Shrink: - Where did you saw this? In a travel agency?

Sick: - Yes, also in there. But some of my friends that had been in
Portugal told me wonderful things about it! And I looked for information
in the net.

Shrink: - Oh, yes... In net, right? And did you not saw, by any chance,
Elvis alive? Or some aliens living among us? Or the destruction mass
weapons in Iraq?!!!

Sick: - Hmmmmmm... Yee, but my friends…

Shrink: - Are you sure that they are really your friends? How many of them
remember your birthday? Maybe they want to make you disappear, have you
though about it? Did you never hear them spread rumors about your life? Did
you never felt watched without knowing the reason? Or did you never have
strange coincidences with your supposed “friends”? They want your job...
Your woman... Your things... Your life... Do you put your hand in the
fire for them?

Sick: - But, but... Yyyyeeeeeennnnnooooooohhhhhhhhuuuummmmmmmm.........
I don’t know, I don’t know... hhhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuu.............

Shrink: - You can tell me sincerely: what do you know about Portugal?
What do you heard generally about that country? You can speak frankly...

Sick: - It is an autonomous region of Spain, seemed like Mónaco in France,
but more poor. It’s in the north of Africa, and the most known people is
the football player Eusébio, his wife Amália, and their children, the three
little shepherds that had gone up into the sky in Fátima...

Shrink: - Yes, yes... You can speak more...

Sick: - In there, they speak an strange language, like a mix between
spanish and french – that’s how I’ve heard the king of Portugal speaking,
his majesty Mário Soares.

Shrink: - Yes, continue please...

Sick: - It is a very small country, where only fits a beach called
Algarve, its capital, Lisbon, and there’s also country standing right
there, near the beach, where the people walk away in donkeys.

Shrink: - Please, speak about the people, now.

Sick: - Well, the men are low, fat macho people and they use a mustache...
The women are dressed in black, with 10 skirts at the same time, their
husbands slap them, and they are low, fat and have a mustache... They also
drink wine and eat borecoles, salty cod and pig guts...

Shrink: - A-ha... So, do you want live in that country?

Sick: - But this is what people said!

Shrink: - And in what do you believe!? In your friends and in the
advertising of that country? Or in the televisions, newspapers and radios?
Do you think that ALL the people are wrong?

Sick (putting his hands in the head, looking for the emptiness and crying):
- My God, my God... What did I make? Doctor, please... Help me, help
me... What can I make?

Shrink: - Your case have only one solution: I advise you to go, instead,
for New Zeland!


Moral of the history (an history without moral is not worthy of being
told): You’re welcome, Yuri. But you must walk bend, and must have a
mustache. And, by the way, bring some of your dutch girl friends...