When I was in Air Force pilot training in Del Rio, Tx in '66 we used to go across the border to Cuidad Acuna (one of the true Hell Holes of the Earth--still) to eat at a place that had really good food called Ma' Crosbys. It had a small training bull-ring built out back (about three rows of bleachers circling above the lip of the ring, iirc) where young wannabe Mateadores would train against young bulls. We would go sit in the sun after lunch, swill Mexican beer and drunkenly root for and cheer on the Bull (natch) : "Oh F%%king Lay!" was the standard cheer, lol
The first bull-fight I ever saw was in Jan 1965 during semester break when six of us--totally drunk, three of which were oil-rig workers our age just off the rigs and with thousands of pay in their pockets--decided to drive to Monterrey, Mex with just the clothes on our backs (I was the only one to bring a change of underwear and my dob-kit. ) The drive itself is an epic of its own, but I can say with confidence that the six of us--all sweaty, drunk, and w. by then stinking clothes and foul body odor--presented an unforgettable sight that day in the stands. Again, cheering for the Bull--yes, "On F**king Lay!" Decent people began to get up and move away from our group in ever-expanding concentric circles...we did much to improve the image of the civilized norte Americano gringo, yessiree, lol
Little Zooks, of whom no one was fond, They shot towards the roof and beyond, The infant’s trajectory passed him over the rectory And into the lily-chocked pond.
I sort of had a grudging respect for bullfighting until I learned that the fighting continues on and on until the bull eventually loses, and then it is eaten.
19 comments:
Payback's a bitch.
Becoming the Bull
Machismo!
Dogs go to the polls in Australia.
The bulls always get them right in that spot. It's no accident. They are sending a message.
They are praying before the race.
NASCAR.
It look like Althouse and Insta are about to pickup where they left off.
I seem to remember a time when Althouse looked down on this type of writing.
Thanks for the heads up, Lem. I left a comment at Insty.
When I was in Air Force pilot training in Del Rio, Tx in '66 we used to go across the border to Cuidad Acuna (one of the true Hell Holes of the Earth--still) to eat at a place that had really good food called Ma' Crosbys. It had a small training bull-ring built out back (about three rows of bleachers circling above the lip of the ring, iirc) where young wannabe Mateadores would train against young bulls. We would go sit in the sun after lunch, swill Mexican beer and drunkenly root for and cheer on the Bull (natch) : "Oh F%%king Lay!" was the standard cheer, lol
Did they have a wheelbarrow with horns on it?
See? Outdoors. Fresh air. Kids having good clean fun.
That will leave a mark.
The first bull-fight I ever saw was in Jan 1965 during semester break when six of us--totally drunk, three of which were oil-rig workers our age just off the rigs and with thousands of pay in their pockets--decided to drive to Monterrey, Mex with just the clothes on our backs (I was the only one to bring a change of underwear and my dob-kit. ) The drive itself is an epic of its own, but I can say with confidence that the six of us--all sweaty, drunk, and w. by then stinking clothes and foul body odor--presented an unforgettable sight that day in the stands. Again, cheering for the Bull--yes, "On F**king Lay!" Decent people began to get up and move away from our group in ever-expanding concentric circles...we did much to improve the image of the civilized norte Americano gringo, yessiree, lol
Little Zooks, of whom no one was fond,
They shot towards the roof and beyond,
The infant’s trajectory passed him over the rectory
And into the lily-chocked pond.
Edward Gorey
choked
web page it was pasted from spelled it wrong
The doubtful guest.
its familiar from the opening to Mystery with Vincent Price, Diana Rig and Alistair Cooke.
not in that order.
Well, if nothing else, I guess the matador now has a great future singing soprano arias in Italian Baroque opera.
I sort of had a grudging respect for bullfighting until I learned that the fighting continues on and on until the bull eventually loses, and then it is eaten.
Civilized people don't play with their food.
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