- dedicated to the Belgian genius of the makers of Asterix - Rene Goscinny & Albert Uderzo
The backdrop of the below conversation hovers around the author and his comrades’ steep desire to take part in Pamplona Encierro ’12. You have no idea what that is, of course. If only you could appreciate Spanish culture beyond its women..
The Encierro is Spain’s famous annual bull run, a practice that involves running in front of a rampaging set of bulls (el torro) let loose on a makeshift course in the streets of Pamplona. The most popular event of the Sanfermin festival, it, well, runs, from July 6-14 and is a perfect example of how nutty testosterone really is.
This post is about a telephone conversation.
And it began, like all telephone conversations do, with a tring.
“Yawn”
“Yawn?”
“Heh sorry, what’s up bey?”
“Right. For a second, I was quite worried that I was spending so much time in office that I had missed out on a paradigm shift in opening greetings of telephonic communication.”
“Come to think of it, the yawn should have come out right now, right after that infinitely long sentence you just uttered.”
“If only foresight was part of your repertoire. Fat, of course is. Are we going anywhere in December?”
“What’s the other fella saying?”
“Get your passport, bey! I have a feeling you’ll ditch us on the Pamplona Bull Run plan”
“Tch tch, such distrust. I am a man of impeccable honour.”
“Practice running faster every morning, or on that fateful day the bulls will have an impeccable meal of honour.”
“I am beef-ing up for July, just so you may know.”
“Aaah so that the bovines cow-er away from you?”
“I have always believed in taking a bull by its horns”
“What bullshit.”
“While all of you will be scurrying away like mice, I will stand my ground, even stare the beast in its eye. And before it can recover itself, I shall bull-doze into it and give it a thumping it never forgets.”
“Do not yelp for help when the ox is chewing on your box, or your cowf, aaar calf sorry.”
“I see you haven’t seen my enraged self. In such phases, I am more like a, lets say, a bull-in-a-china-shop.”
“You do sound like a bully, when you put on that fake deep accent. ”
“It is your co(w)etous desire to possess my baritone, I see.”
"This is exactly like those conversations in Asterix. Goscinny and Uderzo would be proud of us."
"Udder-zo, you mean"
“Mooing on, what’s up bey?”
------
The backdrop of the below conversation hovers around the author and his comrades’ steep desire to take part in Pamplona Encierro ’12. You have no idea what that is, of course. If only you could appreciate Spanish culture beyond its women..
The Encierro is Spain’s famous annual bull run, a practice that involves running in front of a rampaging set of bulls (el torro) let loose on a makeshift course in the streets of Pamplona. The most popular event of the Sanfermin festival, it, well, runs, from July 6-14 and is a perfect example of how nutty testosterone really is.
This post is about a telephone conversation.
And it began, like all telephone conversations do, with a tring.
“Yawn”
“Yawn?”
“Heh sorry, what’s up bey?”
“Right. For a second, I was quite worried that I was spending so much time in office that I had missed out on a paradigm shift in opening greetings of telephonic communication.”
“Come to think of it, the yawn should have come out right now, right after that infinitely long sentence you just uttered.”
“If only foresight was part of your repertoire. Fat, of course is. Are we going anywhere in December?”
“What’s the other fella saying?”
“Get your passport, bey! I have a feeling you’ll ditch us on the Pamplona Bull Run plan”
“Tch tch, such distrust. I am a man of impeccable honour.”
“Practice running faster every morning, or on that fateful day the bulls will have an impeccable meal of honour.”
“I am beef-ing up for July, just so you may know.”
“Aaah so that the bovines cow-er away from you?”
“I have always believed in taking a bull by its horns”
“What bullshit.”
“While all of you will be scurrying away like mice, I will stand my ground, even stare the beast in its eye. And before it can recover itself, I shall bull-doze into it and give it a thumping it never forgets.”
“Do not yelp for help when the ox is chewing on your box, or your cowf, aaar calf sorry.”
“I see you haven’t seen my enraged self. In such phases, I am more like a, lets say, a bull-in-a-china-shop.”
“You do sound like a bully, when you put on that fake deep accent. ”
“It is your co(w)etous desire to possess my baritone, I see.”
"This is exactly like those conversations in Asterix. Goscinny and Uderzo would be proud of us."
"Udder-zo, you mean"
“Mooing on, what’s up bey?”
------
