Pogguta

I've just remembered one thing which people could call me and sometimes do. A "pogguta", which would literally mean a seated lady. So I sit, prettily if I may say so, but what's the sitting got to do about it? I don't sit all day long, if that were the case my butt would be twice its size and I've got plenty as it is. Sometimes I sit, especially when I'm blogging over here, sometimes I stand, I sleep, as does the rest of the population. So where does this seated thing come from. I've no idea. It could have been worse, seated isn't such a bad word after all, because since I'm prettily seated then I must be doing all the bad things in the world. Seated in the Maltese kind of way must mean I'm constantly in bed or our of bed doing all the vile sexual acts in the world without the blessing of the blessed, honest, totally transparent Catholic Curia. Because they don't do anything of the sort in there. They just light candles and pray all day long. I wonder why they go through so many candles a year, my guess is that they've found another good use for them, which is why the tales of the 'blessed' and anointed people going to the Casualty Department at Mater Dei are so popular. They must like Mater Dei, because after all it's the house of the Mother of God. And maybe, just maybe, they too sit prettily, on candles instead of on computer chairs. I wouldn't know why, my guess is that my couch is far more comfortable than a candle. And the fact that my couch costs much more than a candle of which you can get 50 for 2 Euro at tal-Lira must mean something. Perhaps it means that I'm so bad that I go for luxury, while they, bless them, decide to live in penitence and poverty and sit on hard stuff like candles from Tal-Lira. God forbid, I really they hope they don't light them up, talk about burning privates, or butts on fire. Then they would have to call the Fire Brigade first. and so while their intention may be good, their wanting to live in poverty is costing a lot as in our taxes; the doctors at Mater Dei, the Fire Brigade. But then the tales have it that it's not just candles. On days when Tal-Lira have run out, they turn to sitting on other things which could be another's culinary delight. Aha, that's why the greengrocer around the corner decides to prioritize nun clients. It's because they can probably make his day as in earnings, and we people who do not sit on candles or vegetables have to wait. Because while we can make do without cucumbers, carrots and bananas, the poor nuns cannot since it's their staple kind of diet. We can make do with mushrooms, peppers, apples, and pears. And we will not sit on them of course. Because we're the bad bad seated ones who decide to give their butt the most luxurious padding coming from Dunlopillo, Windsor, Regina and Hypnos. And because we've discovered the luxury of it all we're ready to pay for the extra difference, and of course always retire to our wicked ways, which are just as wicked as the blessed-art-thou's people, but of course more wicked because there's less penitence involved. Oh dear.