By Raffique Shah
August 02, 2015

IN days of old here in Trinidad, people one or two generations ahead of mine used an adage, “when yuh crooked, wet brown paper could cut you”.

The word “crooked” in that context usually meant “a run of bad luck”, although in the instant case of Jack Warner, to whom it now applies, it could be a double-entendre. And if wet brown paper could cut you, then you were really deep in the doo-doo.
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