That’s how Barça fans greeted Chelsea boss Mourinho at the airport. Mourinho, of course, worked as press conference reverse mumbo jumbler and general gofer for Bobby Robson during the latter’s all-too-brief spell in charge of our likely lads. Tina Vallès–a real, professional translator–has the clipping.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Guantánamo is better than Belgian jails, but it’s generally easier to get people out of the latter, given the right financial incentives. I used to dream of going to prison in Holland, but I hear standards have declined.
Rich English (via Eye of the Goof) has written here and here of (in)famous female drunks. English, Irish, American, Egyptian and Greek they are, but he doesn’t seem to have stumbled over any ladies of Spain yet. There must be one somewhere.
I have not the slightest problem with gay marriage (I’d go further and subsume marriage contracts etc under general contractual law so I can marry my bicycle without Mr Rajoy objecting) or adoption, but it is true that some much-loved and characteristic Spanish expressions will have to change along with society, as El Cerrajero notes.
It’s good to be reminded occasionally that it’s not just Muslims who go round trying to blow up idiots and innocents. Sounds like the Christians had a go at all-round prat, Leo Bassi, last night with an incendiary device in his dressing room, without causing any damage. Like a whole bunch of British standups still…