Spanish insurers Fiatc have a fairly grisly reputation for health provision care in general. Here‘s how they deal with you once you’re dead: “When we arrived at the crematorium we were taken in through the rear entrance, down a long corridor, where we passed someone else laying in a coffin, a woman walking down the…
Not really relevant, but good dreamy stuff while I talk to people about building the barrel organ and puppet theatre onto the tricycle: (Via Google Earth Blog and Ogle Earth)
Neither Randstad Work Solutions nor their “important international” client can spell “customer”. Unless they really are looking for a bespoke theatrical tailor.
No mention of heroin, but presumably it is only a matter of time before inspectors start banning players for risky rasgueado and closing all those nasty cellars lacking in natural light. Camarón might still be alive if he had been given a cubicle and regular coffee breaks.
La Java Viennoise played at Les Primitifs du Futur: That looks like Fay Lovsky on musical saw, and yes, that is Robert Crumb in the background. You are going to do something by Ms Lovsky, asks S. Well, of course. I tend to prefer what I imagine are her B-sides, and unfortunately they don’t seem…
Señor Coconut was a timely reminder to those who needed one that the best performers of Latin American music have always been Central Europeans. Here’s der Onkel Bumba as immortalised by the Comedian Harmonists: Their life made impossible by Mr Goebbels, half the Comedians ended up in the States, but an even stranger fate awaited…
This excellent piece by Mr Butler provides background to Deutsche’s warning on Spanish mid-table banks and illustrates the eternal perils of investing in real estate in Andalusia–unless you happen to have Manuel Chaves’ mobile number. It will be ghoulishly interesting to observe whether interventionist regions fcuk up better or worse than the ones that still…