Comedy Just Being Funny

Jessica Krug vs Onicia Pope, Political Fixer—Just Being Funny

It was a regular day in quarantine when the former professor of African history Jessica Krug entered the offices of Onicia Pope, Caribbean political fixer.

Krug: Do you…Do you recognize me?

Onicia: Jessica Krug a.k.a. Jess La Bombalera a.k.a. Rachel Dolezal 2.0? Of course, I recognize you and your poorly dyed, crispy ends. Don’t tell me, your lil confessions on Medium didn’t inspire radical forgiveness or a lucrative book deal, and now you want me to rehab your image.

Krug: Um, yes, please. Look, as a Jewish woman, I know that pretending to be Black was wrong. I admitted as much. Now I’m just hoping—

Onicia: Who gave you my number? Was it Hubert Minnis?

Krug: I um…maybe.

Onicia: Choops. I should bill him too. Girl, you didn’t just pretend to be Black; you took on four different identities. First North African Blackness, then US-rooted blackness, then Caribbean-rooted Bronx blackness. And baby girl, if no one told you, I’m telling you now that your blackcent was capital letter T, Trash.

Krug: Sigh. I guess it’s only right that you’d want to read me before you consider helping me.

Onicia: Of course I’m gonna read your culture-leaching, “My name is Cuz but the immigration officials misspelled it when my family immigrated from the Caribbean” whack self. Like, what was you thinking when Rachel Dolezal got outed? Didn’t you consider this a sign from a bob to confess? If you’d done it back then at least you’d have someone to stand in solidarity with. How many more of y’all in hiding?

Krug: In hiding? I don’t know. Look, I clearly have been battling some unaddressed mental health demons for my entire life.

Onicia: Well, sis, I’m glad you said it but that really ain’t an excuse. Yes, I know you agree, but it feels like you’re trying to do reverse psychology. I’m here to say it ain’t working.

Krug: Yes, but moving beyond all that, what can I do to improve my situation?

Onicia: You’s cancelled. I’m not gonna tarnish my brand trying to rehab yours. You could have been an honorary yardie, but you wasn’t true to yourself. You stole our culture, and centred yourself in our struggles.

Krug: Please, there must be something you can do.

Onicia: Girl, it’s over for you. You best go and start an OnlyFans or find something to sell online anonymously. Cause looking at your tattered tresses and those soft hands it don’t seem like you can cook nor do hair. At least my girl Rachel Dolezal—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—but, at least Rachel was actually down for the cause. She was raising Black kids, and even after we shunned her over-tanned behind, she continued to love us, do hair, and hold her corner. You’re dismissed.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

Photo credit: Twitter

Comedy Just Being Funny

Fatal affairs and tebbe lovers—Just Being Funny

Is losing your partner to cheating really that serious? To me it can’t be because it’s not like you’ll be lonely, you have the person you were cheating with, no? Well, I must be alone in this thinking since movies like Fatal Affair (2020) and others claim that it is.

So much of Fatal Affair was me screaming “Just tell your husband!!!” I didn’t understand why Nia Long’s character allowed a non-incident to spin so far out of control.

For those who haven’t seen it, here’s a mostly spoiler-free recap. Ellie is a married woman who reconnects with David, a friend from college. They go to a club for drinks and end up making out in the bathroom. No, not having sex, they literally just kissed. Well, David got Ellie to remove her drawers but they definitely, definitely didn’t smash. But that was enough for David to become a stalker.

Yes, Ellie should just fess up to her husband and get him to tell David to back off, but she doesn’t. Why? Well, if you watched the film carefully—the devil is in the details in these thriller films, you know.

See, about three minutes into the film, there’s a scene where Ellie is talking on the phone. If you look closely, you’ll see that she’s holding the dang thing upside down! That fumble alone should have told me to click off the film because homegirl clearly didn’t have a lick of sense.

But nah, I stayed for the drama of it all.

So yeah, after the “affair”, David has stalker mode activated. But Ellie knew this from day one. See, David was hired by Ellie’s firm to do some hacking because he’s Sir Hacky McHackerson.

But not really. He’s the dumbest hacker on earth.

First off, David kept all of his incriminating files in documents on his desktop! Along with plainly naming the files ‘Deborah’ (his murdered ex-wife) and ‘Ellie’, the blasted files weren’t even password protected!

Bruh, a thirteen-year-old trying to hide porn from their parents has better security protocols than David.

Finally, after months of trying to kill her family, we get to the big fight-for-our-lives scene. While scuffling with Ellie and husbae, David ends up hanging from the edge of a cliff. Instead of seeing this as divine intervention from above, Ellie rushes to David’s side and tries to pull him up!

Hold the dang phone!

After all the stress this man put me and my family through, I would have pulled a Scar and let David fall to his death like Mufassa. 

Seriously, if I was Ellie’s husband, that scene might have pissed me off so much I would have just thrown her and she stalker lover off the cliff.

Anyways, the moral of the story is always use 2-factor authentication and tell your partner about any and all flirtations.

Shout out to my future stalker; I look forward to pulling a Lion King and chucking you off a cliff.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

Photo credit: Netflix

Comedy Just Being Funny

Trying to be sexy with a baggy thong—Just Being Funny

While vacationing in Europe, my friend convinced me to buy a purple thong and bra set. Why? Because that’s what teenage girls do when set free in Europe without adult supervision. There it was, my first thong: lacy and purple.

My buttcheeks were ready to gobble the string like royal floss. Get it, because purple is the colour of royalty and thongs are like butt floss. I’ll see myself out.

Because I’d been traumatized by the sexy blue underwear incident—what, you missed that story? Yeah well, basically my sexy blue underwear with the alluring metal clasps were entirely too small and therefore attempted to strangle me by the p-word.

So, based on that experience and the fact that you can’t try on underwear in stores, I had to make an executive decision. For speciality underwear, do I buy my size or do I go a size up?

My friend, who owned several thongs, tried to convince me to go a size down since thongs were all about being tiny and sexy. However, the last thing I needed was for my G-string underwear to split me by the a-hole. I’d already learned that lesson. No, I’d go a size up.

Sadly, I didn’t really learn my lesson. If I had, I would have gotten underwear in, you know, the size I normally get underwear in. I should have asked a clerk instead of trusting my misguided big-booty friend.

Or at minimum I wouldn’t have waited until the first day of school to try on my new thong. No, I should have done that in Europe when I still had the chance to return the bloody thing.

So, I pull up my underwear, and it’s not like swimming, but it just feels like the thong is just floating between my cheeks. Actually, what I felt was a rush of wind. I was uncomfortable, but instead of swapping the new thong for a tried and true, I pressed on. I hoped that my jeans would resolve my little butt draft issue.

Now, the following thought was illogical, but it’s my truth.

So, I had my underwear and pants on, but I still felt like my cheeks were flapping in the wind. This thong was giving no indication that it was on securely. In fact, the waistband was kinda slack. This caused me to envision the thong magically slinking to the floor.

How, you wonder? Well, you know how you can remove your bra without taking off your top and it just musically slides out one sleeve? Well, for some reason, I kept having this thought like I’m gonna be walking and then this thong is gonna slide out my jeans and everyone is gonna know that the goddess was wearing big underwear.


So I spend the day walking around super paranoid. My butt was so clenched that I was sure I could ground a brick into dust.

Looking back, I realize that there was no way for my underwear to slide down my pant leg, but that’s just what I feared. Needless to say, I added the purple thong to my growing pile of defective lingerie.

Shout out to all the panty connoisseurs.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

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Comedy Just Being Funny

Revoke my Black card, ‘Waiting to Exhale’ sucked—Just Being Funny

I finally watched Waiting to Exhale. Controversial thoughts in 3…2…1…That film was some Tyler Perry-levels of overly dramatic and corny shenanigans. Forest, I didn’t know you had it in you.

Everything Angela Bassett’s character did would land you court-ordered domestic violence classes and probably even lose your kids—the very thing she was fighting for.

I bet Wesley Snipes’ character ain’t even had no white wife with cancer. His entire backstory was some master-level pickup artist ish.

If Angela Bassett was so good at business, why didn’t she sell her house, downsize and start her own venture? Since she helped to create such a successful company, she could do like rich white kids and “bootstrap.” Beloved, the boots already strapped; leverage your network, net worth, and other resources.

Lela Rochon was sleeping with three men—count ’em, one, two, three—at the same time and still managed to get dickmatized??? That’s the opposite of what’s supposed to happen! See kids, this is what happens when you want to play in the big leagues but belong in the minors.

After watching Waiting to Exhale, I searched “Whitney Houston crack timeline”. Thanks, MTV for being so diligent and putting that together. I tell you if you want to know about something, the internet will have the answer. Anyways, I wonder if they gave Whitney that dialogue as a way to drop some hints. The movie was so bad that I’m not reading the book to find out if that part was them taking creative license.

Speaking of Whitney’s characters, are moms really out here telling their children to date married people who won’t leave their spouses? With such scallywag life advice, it’s no wonder Whitney Houston’s character’s mom only had $67 in her bank account. Foolish. 

I have no complaints about Loretta Devine’s character—except her man wasn’t cute and her general homophobic attitude was off-putting. But, considering the lack of character all the cute dudes had, I’ll gladly take a homely handyman any day.

I can’t believe I waited almost twenty-five years to watch Waiting to Exhale—is this the iconic film that had so many black women empowered and ready to leave their ain’t ish men??? Well, the film is trash, but the tunes still slap.

It took me until 2020 to watch Waiting to Exhale because all I remember my mother telling me that I was too young for such matters. Somehow even at 13+, I told myself that I was too young. Woosh, talk about being obedient to a fault.

Finally, did y’all know that Forest thee Whitaker directed Waiting to Exhale? Yup, The Last King of Scotland was serving cinematic Tyler Perry realness before Tyler Perry was real. Perry probably saw how y’all supported the film and said: “I can do that!” LOLz.

So yeah, give me my Black card for finally watching Waiting to Exhale. Now revoke it because I hate it.

Shout out to Tyler Perry for knowing his core fan base and sticking to his storytelling guns.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

Photo credit: 20th Century Fox

Comedy Just Being Funny

Princess and the Frog was a struggle—Just Being Funny

It’s been about 11 years since Disney’s Princess and the Frog was released and I’m still upset. No, not because the music was forgettable. No, not because the accents were all over the place. But because Prince Naveen was a broke boi and Tiana should have left him on read. Immigration status be damned.

As a blaque woman, I’m tired of us having to play captain save a scrub. Yeah, yeah, they world likes to pretend like we’re unworthy bottomfeeders with a thunder load of children looking for a handout, but that ain’t true. Black women stay holding this raggedy world together, and we deserved more than a *checks notes* no-‘count philandering lazy bump on a log for a prince. And das fax. Big fax.

None of the Disney princesses had to go through this hard labour when they met their prince. Poor Tiana had to turn into a frog and swim down a bloody bayou. Meanwhile, all Cinderella and she ashy knees had to do was sleep off her hangover, and her prince showed up at her home.

And don’t get me started on Ariel’s easy path to housewifedom. That saltwater redhead got to chill in a seaside AirBnB and didn’t even have to speak a word! But my gyal Tiana wasted days giving Naveen the tongue-lashing his lax mother was too afraid to dish out.

No other Disney princess lived a struggle life like Princess Tiana. We get the broke prince with questionable morals. We had to build a man like some underpaid Build-A-Bear employee.

All the other princesses basically lived the life of sugar babies who got cleaned up and upgraded without having to prove themselves.

Tiana had to scrimp and scrounge for her restaurant and almost lost everything because she kissed Naveen. Ain’t that always how it goes? Black women finally inherit something and some bumish, smooth-talking scrub derails our lives with either some unplanned baby or some other shenanigan. Makes you want to give up men and learn more about carpets.

At one point, even Naveen had to admit that he was trash. Homeboy was breaking a sweat after only cutting one slice of mushrooms for the swamp gumbo.

Prince Eric could rig an entire ship and swim deep into the sea to save his woman.

I can’t imagine how laborious Naveen’s breathing would have been had he had to smear peanut butter and jelly on a sandwich.

Eric was a whole sailor while Naveen’s backup career was playing music. Artists starve in good economies; How was Naveen planning to support himself let alone an entire family on a subpar musician’s salary?

OMG, Naveen even pulled a Terry Crews and basically said, “What do you mean you’re not white?” Except he was more like “What do you mean you’re not a princess?!” Sir, you barely holding on to your country, but have the nerve to question me about my class?

Disney, you tried it!

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

Photo credit: Disney

Comedy Just Being Funny

Binging cocaine like McDonald’s—Just Being Funny

My coworker with a coke problem—look, if you like the booger sugar, you might catch these jokes, but not judgement.

Anyway, my coworker with a coke problem was like “Hey, Onicia. I’m going to visit your island and I kinda, you know, [snort] I kind wanna party a little bit. Hook me up with the local drug scene.”

As a child of D.A.R.E., the chant “Users are losers so don’t be an abuser” is often replayed in my mind. That said, I do know several crackheads. Wanting to be a great ambassador for my island, I hooked my coworker with my friend Rebecca, a certified junkie.

Two weeks later she said, “Onicia, Rebecca is an animal. We went to the dealer’s place not once, not twice, but six times in one night!”

So, first of all, I did not realize that all crackheads were not created equal.

After a moment, the second part of my coworker’s statement settled—these two powder queens went to a dealer’s spot SIX TIMES IN ONE NIGHT!

The night is only eight hours. Don’t you need time to drive back home, do ze drugs, and enjoy le high before bugging the dealer again? I dunno about you, but if I needed to make multiple trips because I wasn’t able to properly scratch my itch, I’d start to suspect that the dealer might be cutting my baking soda with coke.

Das right, your baking soda might be laced.

But let’s say they were dealing with an honest dealer. Isn’t the point of going to the trap house to get enough so you can get high? I highly doubt they were playing it conservative. If I was the dealer I’d be like heaux, stop knocking on my door like you da Feds. Decide what you want at home, order it, and leave me ‘lone!

Can you imagine going to McDonald’s six times in one night?

Listen, if I roll up saying, “Girl, I got McDonald’s money!!!” You know we getting at least one meal. And if we go back a second time, it’s for dessert. There’s no way I making six trips.

No! If I say we’re gonna have a McDonald’s mukbang, we’re rolling up to the Dollar Menu and getting all da goodz.

In my professional sober person opinion, if you’re snorting dat crack cocaine, you gotta be so F-ed up by trip number three that there’s no way you can make it from the couch to your driveway, let alone the dealers. I wanna know who was driving?!

What kind of super crackhead powers did my friend Rebecca have? What kind of money was my coworker making? We were working the same job and I barely could afford to ball out on fast food.

I guess that’s what life is, right? Some of us pay student loans and some of us are buying coke. And some—the one per cent—are doing both.

Shout out to the dealers who force their clientele to practice moderation.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

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Comedy Just Being Funny

Strangled by my panties—Just Being Funny

Ever notice that people aren’t what they appear to be? Teachers are dungeon masters, fitness instructors are murderers, and politicians—well, we been knew they are liars and thieves.

Me? Well, teenage me wasn’t what she appeared to be. To my peers, I was a grungy girl who wore unironed, oversized clothing that made them question whether I had a butt or breasts. But underneath. Girl, underneath I was a goddess who was obsessed with sexy underwear.

Yup. My contemporaries teased me for rocking glasses and braces. They said I looked like the female monkey from Planet of the Apes. They even said my toes looked like they smoked joints. So, my teenage plot for revenge was to privately kink up my nonexistent sex life by wearing sexy underwear to school.

As an adult, I can see how this strategy isn’t the best way to cope with the stresses of life. No one wants to be like New York Governor Andrew Cuomo who caused the world to question whether he had nipple piercings all because he showed up to a press conference with a super-thin shirt that exposed his kinky secrets.

I was about sixteen when my friend gifted me some underwear. She’d bought a bra and panty set for herself but the panties were too small. I took it because real friends are down for sharing coochie germs. Also, the panties were super sexy. It was a tiny V-cut with swirly metal clasps at the hip.

Instantly, I was like, yasss, I’m gonna be over here secretly belly dancing from first to seventh period—just sexy time all day long.

When I finally wore them to school, around third period I started to feel unwell. I had a massive headache. After praying to Black Jesus to fix it, I decided to go to the bathroom to do a vital organs check.

I didn’t think I had to pee but I thought maybe a full bladder was secretly the cause of my pain. Maybe it was my period. Either way, I needed to undo some stuff.

As I pulled down my pants, I realized that my underwear was cutting into my hip bone! The hip area was all inflamed and I had deep marks where the metal clasps were.

With my last few operating brain cells, I decided to wad some toilet paper together and create a cushion between my bony hips and the metal clasps.

Back in class, I realized my prayers had not been answered. I was still on the fast track to death. 

Next, I decided to inch my underwear down. I thought maybe this area was narrower. Sadly, that didn’t work. Now I had four inflamed areas.

Later, I pulled my V-cut underwear up because my waist was tiny. But now I was just cutting my crotch. A sort of punani wedgie, if you will.

If my vagina rubbed any harder against my underwear, it was gonna catch on fire.

Thankfully, no paramedics were called.

Can you imagine me passing out and the ambulance workers cutting open my clothes in front of my classmates to reveal death by sexy underwear? That’s not how I wanted to go out. I didn’t want to be remembered as the girl who got strangled by she panties.

I wasn’t going to lose my life trying to be sexy for people who wouldn’t even know it.

Shout out to all the paramedics who seent our underwear and don’t judge us.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

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Comedy Just Being Funny

Why micro-cheating is the ultimate #WasteMyTime—Just Being Funny

According to HelloGiggles, a women’s lifestyle blog, a new type of cheating has been established called micro-cheating. I immediately rolled my eyes. Like, what is that? Cheating but with just the tip of your penis?

Was micro-cheating like cheating but only butt stuff? You know what they say, you’re still a virgin if you only use the back door.

Surely this blog had to be written on a slow news day. Nope. I did an internet search and both Psychology Today and Time had articles about this. So then I was like wait a minute now.

According to Psychology Today, “Micro-cheating is a series of seemingly small actions that indicate a person is emotionally or physically focused on someone outside their relationship.” Think of things like constantly checking out someone’s social media account, not mentioning your relationship status, secretly texting, or connecting with a past lover online (without telling your partner).

Okay, that last one is just the first 45 minutes of cheating. Y’all gonna be smashing in an hour or two. And there ain’t nothing micro about the big O.

Friends, micro-cheating and situationships are so vague you don’t know where you stand. For all you know that other person is also a micro-cheater or otherwise entangled. Now, when you get popped by your significant other, the micro-boo can’t take you in because they have a whole relationship they were hiding from you.

People say cheaters are wasting their time, nah cheaters are biding their time.  Big difference. At least with real cheating, if your main relationship goes south, you have a new one waiting for you.

To me, if you’re going to cheat, go big or go home, literally. You can get all those things from your partner with no drama or fear. Imagine losing half your stuff and your home over some likes, comments, and subscribes.

All micro cheaters get are flirtations social media comments and stolen nonversations™ (nonsense conversations. You’re welcome.)

If I wanted to listen to the minute details of someone’s life, I’d become a therapist, not pull some weird cheating not cheating move. That’s like edging (the maintenance of a high level of sexual arousal for an extended period of time without reaching climax).

At least cheaters and official side pieces get flewed out, bags, and crabs. Hey, no one said cheating was one hundred percent a good time.

Micro-cheating is a slippery slope to a boring time. It’s like using your cheat day to eat gluten-free, sugarless desserts. Bruh, dem things taste like cardboard. They taste like having kitty litter or a whole desert in your mouth. Blech. 

Shout out to my big-time OG-style cheaters and monkey bar-ers. At least you’re breaking hearts and wasting people’s time with clear and honest intentions.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

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Comedy Just Being Funny

Why job hunting is a scam—Just Being Funny

Self-made millionaire Ramit Sethi says the one mistake to avoid when job hunting during the pandemic is to change your mindset from ‘job seeker’ to ‘top performer’. Imagine if a shift in mindset was all you needed to get a job in this day and age. Not hard skills, work experience, or network contacts. Nah, just dreams and wishful thinking.

Sethi went on to advise that job seekers—I mean top performers—should only suppose to apply to ten jobs versus sending our resume to everyone because companies can sniff out generic resumes.

This is what I think, job hunting should be treated less like a hunt and more like an email marketing scam.

Job searching is like email scams a.k.a. spamming because we lie about ourselves and our capabilities to stand out from the pack, we stuff our resumes and cover letters with keywords hoping to avoid the spam filter, and we need to cast a wide net if we want to has jerb and not be homeless.

Did you know that email spam will never slow down because mass emailing is so cheap? If scammers get one percent of victims to respond they win because one victim can lead to thousands and thousands of dollars.

Yup. We might send our resume to hundreds of companies, but really we only need one to bite.

There’s lots of trickery in job seeking and email spamming. Spammers pretend to be Nigerian princes and job seekers pretend to be top performers willing to put the company above all else.

And like spamming, the first step to a good scam is finding the right person to target. Career coaches often recommend addressing the human resources manager by name. But how can we find the human resources manager when they are constantly changing their titles?

Recently, while searching for the name of the sacred human resources manager, I found that the HR industry had changed the title from human resource manager to HR specialist.

But then, for this particular company they had neither of those titles. Instead, their HR person was called ‘chief transformation and people officer’. What the what is a chief transformation and people officer?!

If you’re still convinced that job seeking should be treated like a hunt, might I propose that job seekers aren’t the hunters, we’re the prey.

The true predators are HR managers and career coaches. You know the ones, they run resume writing blogs with contradictory advice. They sell expensive consulting sessions where they teach you the secrets of job seeking—I mean being a top performing. Listen, Linda, if I had $4K (true story) to spend on a resume, I wouldn’t need a job.

No, job seekers are the victims here and the only way to get ahead is by treating your job search like an email marketing scam.

Shout out to all the top performers.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

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Comedy Just Being Funny

The Prime Minister vs. Onicia Pope, Political Fixer—Just Being Funny

It was a dark and rainy night when Bahamian Prime Minister Dr. Hubert Minnis entered the offices of Onicia Pope, Caribbean political fixer.

MINNIS: As you might have read, Hurricane Dorian hit the Bahamas pretty badly.

ONICIA: I did. And?

MINNIS: I needed to rebuild quickly, smartly and with resilience, so I hosted the Hurricane Dorian Pledging Conference. I invited representatives of governments, multilateral agencies, and financial institutions.

ONICIA: Oy, a pledge conference? You might as well slap “rookie” on your forehead. Pledges ain’t nothing but promises, and promises are comforts to fools.

MINNIS: Sigh. I spent taxpayer funds to book the Baha Mar Convention Centre. The event committee thought up a theme and everything: “Rebuilding a Stronger and More Resilient Bahamas”. We collected pledges in the amount of US $1.5 billion, less than half the estimated losses and damage.

ONICIA: Honestly, I’m not surprised. That theme doesn’t inspire me to part with billions of dollars.

MINNIS: Actually, that figure included the pledges for in-kind services.

ONICIA: In-kind donations? Woof! You can’t scrape off the top of in-kind services. You basically lost money on a political influencer brand trip. The only thing those government representatives and international investors were interested in was a free Bahamian vacation.

MINNIS: Please, Onicia. I must rebuild my island so I can stay in office. Do you think this can be done by simplifying requirements and expediting applications for Bahamian and international investors?

ONICIA: You’re not a genius but you’re on the right path. Caribbean politicians are always pushing lower corporate taxes. That’s the beauty of living in a hurricane zone. A hurricane ain’t nothing but a Caribbean politician’s version of “the dog ate my homework”. In fact, it’s better than that because you have international media outlets confirming the existence of the dog and its capability to shred homework.

MINNIS: Okay, so, you would liberalise the process of investment.

ONICIA: I would stop talking about your deals in the media. Hosting a pledging conference is a short-sighted photo opp. Everyone knows political progress is made through backdoor dealings. So do like every seasoned politician and pretend you balanced the budget. Your constituents don’t care how much you steal, just as long as they have what they need to live.

MINNIS: That sounds like work. Should I consider changing careers?

ONICIA: Change careers?! You don’t want to put a prime minister’s resume into the dark hole that is LinkedIn. Imagine begging a political rival for a letter of recommendation. Sir, you’re overqualified for everything. No one is gonna hire an incompetent former Prime Minister.

No, your only hope is to abuse your executive power and change your identity. Sadly, once a Prime Minister, always a Prime Minister.

Like you, Emperor Napoleon fudged up at his gig and got exiled to Elba, an island of 12,000 inhabitants in the Mediterranean. That’s like going from Prime Minister to Starbuck Manager.

Napoleon couldn’t go down like that. So he escaped from Elba with 700 men. When the British caught up with him he exiled to Saint Helena, a worse island.

Dear Prime Minister, you don’t want to die—or worse retire on a Starbucks Manager’s pension—stop worrying about money and policy. Focus on maintaining power. Within five years a new Category five will roll off the African coast and eat your political homework.

This first fix was a freebie. Now get out of here!

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy.

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