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kalebeul anythingarian bubbles and troubles from the land of the sweating hun
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/ kalebeul / 2007 / 01 / 17 /

US dumps Woodsy Owl as Asturias hires Yogi Bear

“Basically, the old woodsy was fat and went running around in the woods with no shoes on. Someone decided that this was a bad message to send to kids.” This kind of stuff doesn’t bother the Asturian government, which has (mis)spent €6M on an unshod, fire-raising, drunken Yogi campaign featuring this astonishing piece of creativity. [...]

Bacalado

Wikipedia currently notes the disappearance of the d from the tail of past participles in Spanish (estoy cansado → toy cansao) and corresponding hypercorrections in which a redundant d is inserted into -ao endings. The following passage dealing with syncopes is from Avelino Herrero Mayor’s 1967 Diálogo argentino de la lengua (source: Corde)
Profesor. - Señorita, [...]

Not me

Captain Al Cohol (via Papel Continuo; more superheroes) has nothing to do with Al Pernales. I’d hate to think how long it is since I was last ravaged by a bare

No prizes for me, sez Luby

I couldn’t care less (Ctrl-F Kalebuel) now I’ve got me cycling proficiency certificate?

Giffoot, rare synonym for Ladino?

Found whilst hunting help for a tiny bit of Judæo-Spanish/Sefardi/Dzhudezmo/Judezmo/Spanyol/Spanyolit/Ladino-English translation I did for someone. The book is The Lives of the Right Hon. Francis North …, The Hon. Sir Dudley North …, and The Hon. and Rev. Dr. John North (Roger North, 1826, available on GBS), the year is 1680, and the great English [...]

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 somewhat weary from the night's exertions.


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