Vote for me!

I don't know about you, but whenever one of those naff flyers from prospective MPs or local councilLors drops onto our front door mat, it goes unread and straight into the wastepaper basket.

I did actually ask an acquaintance of mine, who ran for Parliament several elections ago - unsuccessfully - why bother with flyers. His was particularly glossy, but it still ended up in the trash can. He shrugged and replied that: "Maybe a few people might read it and as a result vote for me". Wrong!

And then, come this latest round of local council elections, I broke the habit of a lifetime and did actually read one or two. And before you ask, no... I have not suddenly decided to scan the empty promises of the aspirants. I just wanted to find the most unintentionally funny, to reproduce here it for your Sunday morning delectation.

Some of the flyers written in pidgin Maltese are pretty hilarious, but since I live in a village, Hal SiGra, that has its fair share of foreign residents (who are allowed to vote in local council elections) one of the candidates decided to include a sort of English version of his pitch on the back of his flyer. Sorry Mr Pozzallo, big mistake! This is not so much pidgin as a whole loft-ful.

By the way, in this piece both the name of the village and the candidate have been changed... in order to incriminate the guilty (he knows who he is and so do we!). So here goes with Mr Pozzallo's pitch:

Friends, neighbours and fellow citizens of the beauteous village of Hal Sigra:

May I present my person to you as your Nationalist Labour candidate for these 'horsepixis' 'locil' elekxins.

As you is know, I is a true boy from the rahal and even used I to live here... some of the time... is it. And so as to 'susplain' to you... and all from you foreigners why is it best you vote it for me - (No, it's verbatim... I swear it) - I make it in the English for 'yous' to understand better me.

I is your friend Karmelo Pozzallo, but my friends say me Charlie and my family been live her in Hal Sigra since long time. My nannu, for many generations (clever guy) play her the 'trompone' in the Our Lady of Purity Band. Even my Pa play her also... only he play her the 'toober'. Even me, even though I don't learn her the musicals is represent from the band... since she is my pram what use it to carry her the big drum. My Pa donated to give her to Mro Sciberras, the bands masters, when I can't no longer come inside from her.

I is candidates from it the Nationalist Labour parties, so it is best you make to vote if from me. But from number one but! OK...

Since I got a big love from her my rahal, even my name she is carve it in the 'histry' from Hal Sigra... even you can see it carve on the back from the seat outside the polyclinic. Say it: Charlie heart Gracie (mind I forget from which she is the Gracie) carve it with the pin-knife.

So you foreigners must see I is 'truly' a boy from this rahal.

Mind, when I gone elected I make big things from my beloving rahal. I kill all the wardens and make it everything from where so as to park it the car. Even I drop all the old houses from my rahal and build it the flats, so as to make cheap the houses from the poor people from it my rahal, where been they the old houses. Is better eh?

So vote number one Pozzallo K, your Nationalist Labour party candidate a one Hal Sigra boy... OK!"

This was accompanied by a photograph of Mr Pozzallo plus wife and brood, seated on a rexine-covered sofa, all dressed in their Sunday best and grinning rather uncomfortably at the camera.

Priceless... absolutely priceless.