Julia Maiana, murdered by a husband cruel
Eulàlia has discovered a Gallo-Roman memorial in Lyon to a woman murdered by her husband. I like blogs with photos, but her drawings are wonderful.
Eulàlia has discovered a Gallo-Roman memorial in Lyon to a woman murdered by her husband. I like blogs with photos, but her drawings are wonderful.
Damn shame that all Tony Blair’s moderate Muslims turned out to be cartoon psychos. Here’s another burst of frivolity, available in several locations, which, like Yasser Arafat, I take to be a spoof:
Many of us celebrate what is known as April fool or, if it is translated literally, the “trick of April”. But how much [...]
Kamagurka:
An orism is an aphorism that.
Omelettes are eggs that dream they’re falling.
–How’s the digging in your garden going?
–Not bad, they’ve just hit New York. Manhattan’s already completely uncovered.
–Isn’t it a bit busy having a major city in your garden?
–It’s not that bad really. The time difference means that they’re asleep when I’m sat in it [...]
I was singing this afternoon somewhere and sang “Haikus in Beirut” instead of “Moonlight in Vermont”, completely by mistake. I was thinking about the time in the middle of the night when we drunkenly tried to hijack a plane to go and kidnap an amateur poet’s true love from her family in the Bekaa Valley [...]
“I think the sherry trade could learn a lot from their cousins in Portugal. But of course that’s only if the sherry trade sees any benefit in visitors to their bodegas. I often wonder if they really do.” It’s the old Spanish paradox of shops whose owners seem prepared to go to quite extraordinary lengths to avoid selling you anything, unless that something is guaranteed to malfunction at the first opportunity. Experiences recounted last night of finally persuading a well known department store to relinquish a sewing machine which immediately jammed, the replacement literally falling to pieces whilst being bagged. Why?
A double reflection makes up the man who was born on the thirteenth day of the moon, lost his
throne on the thirteenth day of the moon, and fought the battle of Waterloo on the thirteenth day of the moon:

I wonder if Josephine’s astrological babblings didn’t cause Napoleon’s natural military interest in the moon to be unduly romanticised.