This is Thursday's post. Thanks to problems with Blogger, it was not possible to post it until Friday evening.
This recession really is biting. I went to the stationers I normally use today, to find it'd closed. Fortunately, the one across the road from it hadn't. But, as I know from previous visits, the young lady there is not only remarkably sexy but also remarkably dumb. So I didn't get any box files. Largely because she didn't know what they were. Despite increasingly desperate descriptions from me. Still, it was an enjoyable failure.
Which reminds me . . . I was rather taken by a report on the back of yesterday's El Mundo that a pneumatic young lady had had to leave un reality when her left breast had migrated after she was dropped from a helicopter. Becoming 'unstable' in the process. Thankfully, I can resist the temptation to say I was keeping abreast of the news.
Not every organisation is cash-strapped. Last week the Poio council sent me a a 32-page, A5 glossy brochure, entitled "2011: PROGRAMACIÓN CUTURAL E FESTIVA". And today I received a second one, as doubtless everyone in the barrio did. I wonder why.
I forgot to say, when reporting on the Celta Vigo match last Saturday, that our seats were smack in the middle of the area from which the club's most vociferous fans bawled their scurillous ditties while their team went down to a heavy home defeat. Truth to tell, I didn't catch many of the words. But it was clear that puta (whore) and hijo (son) figured quite regularly.
Which reminds me . . . In his book "The Ghosts of Spain", Giles Trimlett reveals that the first thing one sees as one drives into the village of Slavery (Esclavitud) south of Santiago, is a large sign for a brothel. (Just as it is, I noticed, when the Madrid train pulls into Redondela). Until recently, one was left in ignorance when driving north out of Slavery, as the sign is on the north-facing wall. But, when motoring from Santiago to Pontevedra yesterday, I saw that the place now has a Club La Perla neon sign on the roof, visible in both directions. Hard times call for desperate measures, I guess.
Third time lucky down in Vegetables Square! I managed to get connected today and spent several happy hours on the net in the glorious sun, before something decided I'd had enough and cut me off. I think I'll vote for the current council. Even if it is from the Galician Nationalist Party (the BNG). Well, if the Scots can do it . . .
Finally . . . I quoted a tale yesterday which illustrates how EU bailouts work. Here's another way of putting it - "It is bizarrely circuitous for the German taxpayer to offer a bridging loan to Greece, purely to prop up its own banking system. Then again, ever since the financial crisis broke, the European way has been to kick the can down the road."