Check out Jayne over at Pyrenean Notes, who’s plugging the fiesta in Plan, up in the Huescan Pyrenees, and writing about other interesting stuff like mountain walking.
The Dallas Morning News ($$$) has an interesting variation on the “Franco banned the sardana” urban legend: “In fact, during the tightest days of his rule, the Sardana dance was still performed here (but with a different name) …”
El País this morning seems still to be backing the “It wos Bush wot dunnit” hypothesis. This is because they are being paid to do so by the Russians–although they still haven’t managed to get the hammers and sickles up there in the clouds. (Thanks Dave)
Vaguely re this, I was surprised to find that medieval Spanish local legal codes are thick with arse. Fueros sometimes proscribe face-arse contact and are generally quite stern about insertions of any nature, unless of course they form part of fun-for-all, legally sanctioned punishments. By the sixteenth century arsebanditry has become slightly more fun–unless, of…
Someone who thinks I was born yesterday tells me this word is applied to policemen who shoot street children. (BTW: The Guttersniper has frenemies, an updating of the good/bad cop routine.)
yetimology: [n.] The study of those abominable words that are large, wild and probably fictitious. (I hoped it was going to be funnier, but summer’s over.)
From within my patent Dixieland trombone snorkel, I wonder how it was that Eddie DeLange got away with rhyming “Do you know what it means” with “to miss New Orleans”.
Glad to see the French are bemoaning the death of Cockney. There’s a lovely bit in George Borrow’s Romany Rye where he has moved into an inn in which there was a barber and hair-dresser, who had been at Paris, and talked French with a cockney accent; the French sounding all the better, as no…