“First thing we do is break their noses,” says Ukrainian cop, Igor, over at this Don Weber exhibit (via BB). I think that’s also Algerian police strategy: the Algerians who stalk tourists here tend to have omelette noses, nasty limps, parapet dentistry, you name it, while their Moroccan colleagues are usually more or less unscarred.…
For reasons that are perfectly legit and PC, I’ve got to write some phoney Arabic. I am not, of course, the first to fool around with God’s own language. The Dan Rather story is still a giggle, and The Lost City is on my Christmas list.
I’ve been doing some research on The Next Stage. I liked the bit on Stuart Simmons site (merci, Freuzel!) where he says, “People often ask if I had to drink a lot of beer to build an Earthship. The answer is no but it sure helps.” There’s no way you’d get away with proper earthships…
Just a footnote to the Boris Johnson piece: I think BJ may have put words into Judge Harris’ gob when he has him remark that it was all very well talking about a new café-style culture, where we all sit around like Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, drinking slowly and moderately as we formulate…
The rest of the bullocks were taken off to be slaughtered this morning. The knacker sang to them as he walked into the yard. Some bellowed, one wailed, feeling what was coming; the vultures circled, just in case it didn’t.
I thoroughly approve of British attempts to imitate Spain and introduce round the clock drinking. Maybe it will encourage the drongos who were singing outside my window at 5 this morning will stay at home next year.
For reasons still unclear, MM has been investigating Chinese punishment and bondage gear. Ah, if I had but the spondoolicks… (The first person I heard using “spondoolicks” was a well-off British public (that is to say, private) schoolboy whose Cockneyisms have brought him fortune and a certain degree of fame. Ach well!)