Catanadas com pinta

Nuno Brederode Santos, em altas no DN:

Era, pois, Putin (ou "putine", como escrevem os franceses, carinhosamente empenhados em não dizer "putain") o impedimento no trânsito. Putin, mais o seu blindadíssimo Mercedes "Lang" e um discreto exército de querubins, antropomorficamente ursídeos louros, de fato escuro a exalar o pistolão. Saudades de Rasputine. Comparado, até Sarkhozy (um dopado para a vida que se julga o topo de uma pirâmide humana formada por Vercingetórix, Carlos Magno, Luís XIV, Napoleão e De Gaulle) cirandou entre nós no cinzento anonimato de um burocrata de terceira linha.

Cada tiro, cada melro. Realces adicionados.

Antologia do hip-hop francês

Vi isto enquanto tomava café, e pareceu-me extremamente apropriado. Fatal Bazooka - Trankillement. Hip-hop francês no seu melhor.

Eurotrip, day 17

Fed up with French prices (it's really an issue) we hit the road to Barcelona. The car started blinking because of overheating. After careful investigation, turns out it's mostly false alarm. Anyway, it gets me worried.

As we hit Spain, I'm the designated speaker, which means I have to speak Spanish. Half of my family won't talk to me ever again, but ok... The climate makes me feel at home, at least. We found good maps and tourist info, so the search for accomodation should be easy. Or at least easier.

The closed parking won't be cheap, but the car is safe. Then the hostal is fancy, but expensive. La Rambla is full of prostitutes, Ziga received an ass compliment with a badly disguised purpose behind it and the whole place is a comic freak show. Lovely.

Eurotrip, day 16

We left Cote d'Azur and its prices and kept on moving to Montpellier. Our diet consists mostly of sandwiches. And not quite fancy sandwiches, except for the those with a big GDP per capita.

Montpellier looks quite nice, and we managed to find a camping spot in decent hours. Loaded up with Quick burgers (not so giant, really) and set the tent in that fancy place in the middle of a field. The idea was to keep the car next to the tent, but our quest for alcohol at Carrefour took too long, and we couldn't bring Rezna in. Tough shit, I took the tent.

As the trip gets long and demanding, we did the right thing. We got drunk in the car. About time.

Eurotrip, day 15

We took a quick guided tour around Torino, where the prostitutes look nice and work daytime also, and gatherings of antique cars colour the streets a bit more. Then a nice meal to gather strength for the road, and off we go again.

Rezna crossed the Alps at over 1400m high, burning some rubber, we hit France, drove for a while, then hit Italy again, and finally France once more. Stupid road. As classy as we looked, we certainly released some magic around the Cote d'Azur, where the bitches are nice and look more expensive than those in Riga, and eventually slept outside again. Well, Frederic and I took the car, but our Slovenian crew took the woods. Balkan style. Fuck yeah.

We sure have some problems with camping protocol.