Bulls 14 Idiots 0!
As is traditional at this time every year, the pious devout ordinary peoples of Spain are enjoying the Chasing of the Foreigners in Pamplona during the festival of Saint Fermin, a much-revered individual in these parts who was martyred after being dragged through the streets by a bull. Some of his friends had been telling him for ages that his long hair would be the ruin of him, and how correct they was when he try to convert a herd of Miuras using just a Bible, a fish, and his long, flowing, cape-like red locks.
Mankind’s Natural Enemy
The Spanish people are too smart, naturally, to be taking part in the Chasing of the Foreigners themselves. Is much too tiring! Instead, we have fine, especially bred bulls who represent Spain on our behalf (sometimes there is the odd energetic soul who want to join in on the side of the bulls, but the bulls are not differentiating between proud Spaniard and cowering foreigner, so this is always a mistake). The rest of us decide to make a day out of it, bringing along a pack lunch—a bottle of wine, some cured ham, some bread, olive oil, tomatos, etc.,—and rent a balcony overlooking the run or the corrida where the run is finishing. From the comfort of our seats, we toast the bulls and cheer them on, or sometimes, if we are feeling particularly sarcastic, we will shout for the Americans: “Look out, Johnny! He is goring you in the asshole! No! My mistake! Is your belly-button! I cannot tell which way you are facing, you fat bastard!”
The reason why all the stupid Americans is coming to Pamplona is because of the novelist Wayne Hemingsway, notorious author of The Sun and the Sand, For Whom the Blood Boils, The Troll Also Rises, and of course Men Who Run With the Bulls, a self-help guide to teach men to get in touch with their inner coward. You will notice that it is not called Men Who Run AT the Bulls, but of course none of the idiot Americans know this because they have not read it, which make them the ideal gullible victims for our naughty Spanish schoolchildren, who run up to them in the street and tell them, “Don’t run away from the bulls, mister. That is the worse thing you can do. Look at our brilliant Spanish bullfighters. They stand their ground and then dodge out of the way at the last second. That is what you should do. Also, take this roll-up newspaper and whack the bull between the eyes as hard as you can. No! I am not jerking you off. Bulls are like English people. They are intimidated by people who read. Trust me. I am a Spanish schoolchild.”
The Pamplona festival also give the Spanish people a big opportunity to gamble, which is a terrible sin but which we love very much. Usually we are gamble on how many foreigners will be gored or killed during the festival, or also we gamble on which breeds will be the highest gorers. The Miura breed is normally very placid and give very few gorings of the foreigners, so you can usually get good odds; this year, the Miuras surprise everyone and really come good; they really outdid themselves. But this has led to accusations that they have been using performance-enhancing drugs, and no doubt there will be some blood tests done when they are eaten. The Jandilla breed has not until this year ever killed anyone, but they are the third-highest gorers in the history of the competition. This year also was their second-slowest-ever running time, which suggest that the Jandillas are learning to take their time and pick their targets more selectively. Will be only a few years, I think, before they are smarter than the Americans. Let us hope that they do not learn to type!
For this year’s festival, then, here is the final goreboard:
One Madrileño killed (mistaken identity)
Twelve various gorings.
One twisted ankle (probably a Frenchman)
All bulls survived the running.
In Spain, we like to give the bulls a level playing field (although it actually slope downwards) and the chance to have a go back at all the foreigners who have been eating their women in McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s and so on, over the past 12 months. This year also the fair play award went to a bull, whose name was Subueso, a Jandilla. He was the last bull in the corrida on July 10, and he was killed beautifully by matador Ruben Pinar.
What events or institutions do you have in your own country, both my reader, to humiliate and laugh at idiot foreigners? I know that the Irish have Bloomsday and the French have Paris. Are there any more that I should know about?
“Also, take this roll-up newspaper and whack the bull between the eyes as hard as you can.”
Exactly, establish dominance! Look that bull straight in the eye and tell it, “I am an American, dammit! If it weren’t for me, you’d be speaking German! Here, have some chocolate and nylons and take it like the bitch you are!” That usually does the trick, unless it’s an Al Qaeda bull, and we all know that they don’t fight fair, unlike our own brave patriots who manfully hid behind trees to shoot at the Red Coats during the War of Independence.
Actually, that whole taxation with representation thing didn’t work out too great, so now the foreigners laugh at us. Even the French, which is really bad.
I’m just going to go and see if I can pass as Canadian from now on.
Hola Sparrow!
Is a very good idea. In Canada you would only have to face the meese.
Besos
Manuel
Bon Dia Manuel
In the UK we have Manchester United. People don’t realise that Old Trafford was only built 20 years ago so that Asian and Irish tourists could have somewhere to spunk the last of their holiday money on a Sunday afternoon when everywhere else was shut.
‘dios
Martin
‘Allo Manuel
Down here in the City of Cork we have “The Swimming of the Lee after 14 pints of Guinness”, an honorable past time which was first introduced to the Black and Tan occupiers of our fair City by Tom Barry while he sat out on Union Quay drinking a pint of Murphys with Michael Collins.
Collins being a bit of a rogue and a betting man, wagered the Bandon Black and Tanners, who were up in our fair city for a bit of R & R or Rape and Rousery as it was then known, that he could swim across the Lee faster than any of them could piss up against a wall.
The upfrontery of the challenge was too much and the whole unit jumped in.
Collins had a unit stationed across the river with a Vickers Machine Gun, which opened up when they were half way across, he having already made it to the other side, due to his superior athleticism.
These days we only throw cider bottles at the foolish Brits who attempt the crossing,although I do remember someone throwing a rabid Pit Bull in on one such occasion to stir things up a bit.
Corkonians with their brash rituals! How they make me laugh (and also in the past have made me pregnant, the fuckers). In Galway we have a much more subtle way of poking fun at tourists, without their realising it and spoiling all the fun. Even the most obnoxious Englishman will accept that he has made a mistake in his conduct if he’s being pelted by Bulmers bottles.
Yup, in Galway, we have Macnas. The best way to hide is out in the open, they say, and ridiculing visitors by sticking them in papier mache helmets and pantaloons is so blatant they cannot believe it to be true.
Genius!
very mooooooving Manooooel
Whilst bloody, the final tally of the ‘goreboard’ is still far removed from what antropologists have dubbed ‘The Running of the T-Rexes’ — a custom of early man during the Jurrasic period.
Hola Martin!
The filthy Catalans have a similar idea, but the idiots all go to watch it themselves! Ha ha ha.
Besos
Manuel
Hola Swe.Ge!
is a very funny story, and yet not, I think, true. I was told by a reliable young lady acquaintance that the only reason Cork people hate the English is to have something to compensate for not being from Dublin. But then she was wearing a cricket box.
Besos
Manuel
Sweary! That is Sceary!!
Besos
Manuel
Hola Galwaywegian!!
Your comment is very amoooosing!
Escept in Spain the bulls go “buff, buff.”
Is because they wear leather boxing gloves.
Besos
Manuel
Hola Flann!
Ha ha. I am glad to see there is at least one person here who has not fallen for the atheist communist lie that dinosaurs and men did not co-esist. The Loaves and Fishes was only possible because Jesus use the ichthyosaurs.
I hug you in a manly way.
Besos
Manuel
In Scotland we just tell them all to fuck off. End. Of.
Hola Queenie!
Surely that just make them feel like a part of the family?
Besos
Manuel
Canadians would only bore the bulls to a stand still. That will only confuse them – the bulls, I mean.
Hola Ironbed!
Si, and is not just the bulls. When Canadians are around, everyone just stop, stand and stare. No good for attracting the tourists. Is why Canadians are banned from Spain.
Besos
Manuel
The Scottish have Burns night which involves lit cigarettes put onto the skin of fleeing tourists.
I went to Spain once and gored a bull cos I’m hard.
Here in Brussels we have the European Commission, which humiliates 27 nations simultaneously.
Hola Knudsen–
The bull is still showing everyone the scars.
Besos
Manuel
Hola Daphne!
Not to mention those nations who are members!
Besos
Manuel