“To the old rugged cross I will ever be true; / Its shame and reproach gladly bear; / Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away, / Where His glory forever I’ll share.” Yes, but wouldn’t it be helpful if more wayside crosses, like this one, somewhere near Le Malzieu, indicated the…
Gaudí’s work was financed from the fortune built upon Joan Güell’s Cuban slave empire, so if Eurovegas is going to come to the marshes of the Llobregat, what more appropriate way to staff it than by shackling and transporting some of the tens of thousands of locally unemployed Africans?
Via LS an anonymous cartoon of the gulf between what we (would like to) think we have said and what we (are understood to) have actually said: Why don’t we say what we think? Why do the inventors of magnificent flying machines gibber like madmen? Why, in our case, do excellent Spanish bars produce hilarious…
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…
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