Two limericks

Not in Spanish, you´ll be relieved to know:



There's a type of a bawd called a strumpet
Who - I'm told - can be played like a trumpet
But when you have paid
That streetwalking jade
Then, sir, you can like it or lump it!



Her amorous cousin, the trollop
Ladles out love by the dollop
In legend of old
She's a heart of pure gold
Snopes.com says that that's just codswallop!

The plain people of Ireland: Eilish, Sinead - get over here - guess who yer man has on his blog today! It's that American movie star, Julia Roberts. Look - that's her with that Richard Gere fella in "Pretty Woman"! Won the Oscar for that one back in 1990. Remember - Father Finnegan tried to have it boycotted because of that scene where she flashes the coloured con-doms at yer man..

The management: Excuse me! Let's stick to the facts here. The motion picture for which Ms Roberts received the Oscar for showing off her decolletage to devastating effect was "Erin Brockovich", not "Pretty Woman".

The plain people of Ireland: No matter. She's still one handsome woman, teeth or no teeth, you have to give her that.

The management: Indeed. And does it not bother you at all that in the motion picture "Pretty Woman" Miss Roberts played the role of a common streetwalker, a strumpet, a lady of easy virtue?

The plain people of Ireland: Yerrah, spit it out man! You mean she was a hooker!

The management: Exactly.

The plain people of Ireland: How much of an eejit are you? This is Julia Roberts, America's sweetheart. Sure she was no ordinary hooker. That was the whole point. She was a hooker with a heart of gold.

The management: dear God.

The plain people of Ireland: So, can we take it that all this versifying means you're feeling yourself again?

The management: oh, yes indeed. Thank you for your concern.

The Peaceable Kingdom

Here at MotP we wish all our readers as much peace and harmony in their lives as is seen in these pictures.

Now with 100% more pictures

Articles for bakeries

Who said we neglect dogs on this blog?

Strumpet City

It is the policy of this blog to report the truth as we see it, recognizing that this might be upsetting to some. Or indeed that doing so might draw the attention of the wrong kind of reader, lacking in the discernment that characterizes the great majority of our readership. But these are the risks we take in the interests of truth.

Thus, for instance, I fear that earlier posts may have given an incomplete impression of the nature of the Calle Valverde, where I am currently billeted. Not all is leafy grandeur and "My Fair Lady" like elegance. At least I don't remember seeing any sex boutiques in "My Fair Lady", though Henry Higgins was clearly more than a little bit kinky. So it would be remiss of me not to mention the two cheerfully decorated sex shops right here on the street where I live. And, I suppose, in the spirit of full disclosure, it seems only fair to mention that there are four more within a block on either side of the Gran Vía.

Now, lest any of my readers become concerned for my safety, I need to say that, from the outside at least (the limits of my experience, I assure you all), Spanish sex boutiques seem to match more the clinical cheeriness of their German counterparts than the sleazy, fear for you own safety nature of the corresponding establishments in the U.S. (Again, I must plead limited experience here). So there appears to be little element of danger surrounding these establishments. Neon? Lots! Danger to one's personal safety? None, assuming one has the good sense to observe from the outside only.

Then there is the following observation to be made. On Sunday afternoon, as I was figuring out the way to school for the next morning, I accidentally found myself strolling down the Calle de la Montera (which runs parallel to c/Virgen de los Peligrosos, where the school is located; the two are linked by the c/Caballero de Gracia).

tart walk

Gentle readers, I am not entirely clear about the literal translation of Calle de la Montera, but an accurate functional translation might be rendered as "Street of the Working Girls". ¡Strumpets! In hot pants! Plying their trade at four in the afternoon on a Sunday, right in the center of Madrid! With the apparent full approval and cooperation of the local constabulary.

This must be what they mean when they refer to "the new Europe".

The plain people of Ireland: Begob, that's shocking altogether! And on a Sunday no less?
The management: Indeed.
The plain people of Ireland: Tell us, were you able to get any pictures?
The management: Salacious wretches! If it's dirty pictures you want, I suggest you indulge your prurient curiosity elsewhere on the internets, that is, if you can unstick your fingers from the keyboard.
The plain people of Ireland: No need to get huffy. Just askin'. So tell us - "Strumpet City", that's a reference to that book by yer man, James Plunkett, isn't it?
The management: Yes, a fine panoramic tale of strife-torn Dublin during the lockout of 1913, booklink later adapted by RTE into a fine television series. Available on DVD.
The plain people of Ireland:
Strumpet City in the sunset
Suckling the bastard brats of Scot, of Englishry, of Huguenot
Brave sons breaking from the womb, wild sons fleeing from their Mother.
The management: dear God. So ye've learned to google, have ye? This cannot end well.

Unto us a child is born

An update from the throne of the Bourbon-Hapsburg-Battenberg-Hohenzollern-Tiramisu-Hasenpfeffer-Sachse-Gothenburg-Windsor-Thurn-Taxis dynasty:

El Príncipe and his non-aristocratic wife had another Infanta on Sunday. Se llama Sofía como su abuela, and she is third in succession to the throne, after el Príncipe and her sister, Leonor (pending some boring changes in Spanish law which will give equal rights to male and female heirs in the line of succession; too late to benefit el Príncipe's older sisters, but I'm sure they're not bitter in the least). The Infanta was delivered by Caesarean section on Sunday at 16:50, and weighed 3.31kg, measuring 50 cm. Don Felipe informed the queen by radio, as she was returning from the Rostropovitch funeral in Moscow, that her 8th grandchild would bear her name.

This touching picture is that of older sister Leonor, about to visit the new arrival. Rumors that the older sister's first words to her sibling included the phrase "neener-neener" remain unconfirmed, according to a palace insider.

Members of the Battenberg branch of the royal family are said to be literally pink with fury, maintaining that they are being short-changed in the proposed new succession rules. A palace insider, speaking on condition of anonymity, said that, in view of their somewhat checkered past, it is unlikely that a Battenberg will ever again mount the Bourbon throne.

The Hasenpfeffer family could not be reached for comment.

The plain people of Ireland: Are you gone daft altogether? This is surrealist rubbish, and not even funny at that! Any more of this, and steps will have to be taken.

The management: Do you mind? I spent the afternoon at the Reina Sofia museum, much of it spent in mature contemplation of the works of Dali. Is it any wonder if a little surrealism creeps in occasionally? We sensitive souls are very suggestible you know. The lush zebra imbrocates aubergine schoolbuses with zabaglione.

The plain people of Ireland: Dali, is it? Oh fair enough so. Sure that's understandable. Let us know when you're feeling yourself again.

The management: The narpish fleens gongoozle sybaritic nightshirts.

Take the virtual tour

A few of my readers have wondered: "why aren't there more photos of people on this blog, of David, in particular"? An entirely reasonable question. So, here you go: (and yes, I have shaved off my moustache)



This photograph is just one of many subtle gems you will find if you take the virtual tour of my current dwelling, which is at the following link:

where I live now

The plain people of Ireland: Begob, them's very fancy digs indeed. Sure 'tis living on the pig's back, you are - ar mhuin na muice, as Brother O' Donovan was always fond of saying.
The management: Yes, thank you. Nice of you to say so.
The plain people of Ireland: That's what comes of all that book-learning. Sure 'tis nice to see it pay off.
The management: Why yes. In my time, I did indeed apply myself to my studies, with occasionally gratifying results.
The plain people of Ireland: But with all that book-learning, did you never hear of a thing called Grecian Formula? For someone like yourself, with a fine head of hair, 'twould take years off overnight. Sure look at what it did for yer man Reagan over in..
The management: Why, I believe the new wireless connection is acting up. I'm afraid we will have to leave things there for this evening.

The street where I live

People stop and stare. They don't bother me.

For there's nowhere else on earth that I would rather be.

On the plain

Estoy en Madrid. Much more to relate, but right now, I've got to go buy a laptop.

¡Hasta luego!