- Lunch in a Mary Celeste hut on well-concealed squatted allotments by the Llobregat.
- A massacre of rather large dolls in the gardens.
- Across the river in an old (brick?) factory, rotting caprid and offspring in a fetid tank. There was a ladder, but the beast didn’t make it out, and no one fancied swimming with cadavers to determine whether they were sheep (tail down) or goat (up).
No sign of Rajoy, though, nor of vengeful hobos etc etc.
Error: the communication with Picasa Web Albums didn’t go as expected. Here’s what Picasa Web Albums said:
The requested URL
/data/feed/api/user/111257672258796628424/album/CabanaFabricaZombie?kind=photo was not found on this server.
- The best of all possible donkeys
Although Catalonia has donkeys rather as the Soviet Union used to have coalminers, the nation’s poets have tended to avoid the
The good, the bad, and the quite ridiculously ugly.
- Inspirational tale for bubonic plagiarists
Here’s a slightly paraphrased anecdote from Ramon Miquel i Planas’ El llibreter assassí de Barcelona (1928), which his footnote seems to
- Commercial typography
I think Juanjo Seixas is promising to extract a usable font from this chocolate factory sign. I hope he also tells
- Is Michael Moore a resurrected Saracen monster?
European acceptance of Michael Moore’s new anti-Americanism has been greatly assisted by the loving detail with which he depicts the country