free transfer
Bad news: the cat has become a coke addict and has taken up snooker.
Bad news: the cat has become a coke addict and has taken up snooker.
Amid celebrations of plane crashes and the imminent extermination of everyone congenitally uncongenial (uncongenital?) to a deranged fascist from Omaha, Malcolm ZZZ in his must-read 1963 Alex Haley interview for Playboy makes the following interesting assertion :
When I’m traveling around the country, I use my real Muslim name, Malik Shabazz. I make my hotel reservations [...]
The cat has learnt how to play football. She can do sideways passes and penalty shootouts with a pencil stub and we’re now working on basic cocaine technique.
The use of an Anglicism, esquàter, is a grave handicap to the popular struggle against the neoliberal Satan and should be resisted. Although esquàter obviously hasn’t yet made it into the Catalan-Valencian-Balearic dictionary of the Institut d’Estudis Catalans, okupa, the normal usage, doesn’t appear either. So what does the right-thinking bourgeois Catalan say to the [...]
IT a profession for generally peaceful, libertarian innovators sans frontières? Not in Andalusia, where they’re demonstrating with the ultimate goal of excluding those without the correct government diploma. The OECD wants flexible labour markets. Spain wants guilds. Yet I’m sure this kind of thing must happen somewhere else–Gordimer would surely have had some if there’d been any around–so maybe we should kill that chorus of “Only in Spain”.
CC says that Telva says that Jaume Plensa is simply panting to design some sets for Verdi’s Macbetch. I blame Telva’s legions of copy editors this time–they get Toulouse wrong too–but there’s no reason why not: “So this is the story of Lady Macbitch and her husband. The Queen stimulates herself with the props of power, [and] domination is a kind of remote masturbation.” This was before Angela Merkel came to office, of course.
Geo-sensitive porn chat ads cope as well with multi-key characters as the average wanker. I doubt not that Cornell University is a chattering of cheeky chicas, but at this time of year the weather’s rather better in Cornellá, Barcelona. Not that I’m in Cornellà, but you get the picture, and if you don’t then I can always mail you it, Ian and David.
For a long time I’ve avoided the centre of town, where the keywords are minuscule and mediocre, but even in quieter districts it’s difficult to find a decent traditional menu for a sensible price. Ca la Flor (Secretari Coloma 10, metro Joanic) is just the job: €8.50 for three generous home-cooked courses with free-flowing booze, and good cheap coffee and shots afterwards. The service from Flor and Mr in the kitchen is friendly and rapid, something quite exceptional in Barcelona. To my unsophisticated palate the quality is comparable with the nearby Yaya Amelia (Sardenya 364), and you pay a fraction of the price. You also get to watch the Simpsons and there are no pretty Catalan tiles or other useless crap like that. Highly recommended.
On Facebook, Trevor is prepared to settle for info about waking from a vegetative state, since none of you will admit to ever having been comatose.