Once again we stray from the straight and narrow of our mission onto the great scrubby heath of linguistic hilarity. The double airco and window/door configuration here clearly forms an elephant’s eyes and trunk, suggesting a menagerie shared with the one-eyed trouser-snake, but this is an MOR clothing retailer in Manresa, not a boutique dedicated to camp double entendre, to the basic freedoms of the tool used to wean and convert lesbians and virgins into useful, productive members of society:

So who knows what a cokk is. Outlet, on the other hand, is the Spanish crisis synonym for shop. Anything that doesn’t call itself an outlet is clearly overpriced, although price comparison now reveals little or no difference.

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Posted on

This post pre-dates my organ-grinding days, and may be imported from elsewhere.

Barcelona (492):

English language (432):

Föcked Translation (413): I posted to a light-hearted blog called Fucked Translation over on Blogger from 2007 to 2016, when I was often in Barcelona. Its original subtitle was "What happens when Spanish institutions and businesses give translation contracts to relatives or to some guy in a bar who once went to London and only charges 0.05€/word." I never actually did much Spanish-English translation (most of my work is from Dutch, French and German) but I was intrigued and amused by the hubristic Spanish belief, then common, that nepotism and quality went hand in hand, and by the nemeses that inevitably followed.

Spain (508):

Spanish language (428):

Translation (467):


  1. Yeah, great hack who edits the piece just when it gets interesting (after Sirleaf says: " We won't sign any such law [etc.].") and keeps on talking about such things as "decriminalising [a] law".

    Way to go, Tamasin.

    I'm quite sure that based on this the whole Civilised World is now up in arms against Sirleaf.

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