If the back leg of a giraffe can get away with charging €600 for moonlighting as a tarantula, then it does make you wonder whether the War For Oil slur (apologies, anyone?) was nothing more than a genuine case of mistaken identity.
Coming back into town this afternoon on Renfe after one of these, we heard the intercom voice say “Correspondencia con metro y bocadillos de la Generalitat,” I swear it.
This is pretty off-topic, but I’m dying for her to run in 2008, with girlie-man as her post-Tonto. That would just tear the Democrats apart, seriously.
Thanks to Mark Liberman and John McWhorter over at Language Log for raising the hit count over the last couple of weeks. The lack of feck, gorm, and posts here over the last few months has been in part attributable to my not being connected. I hope to fix this soon.