There is a four-letter word in this blog post. A word of which My Mother The Dowager Duchess will not approve. But I’m not the one who said it… the first time.
If, like the Dowager Duchess, you are offended by “dirty” words, read no further.
If, however, also like the Dowager Duchess, you hate to miss anything, read on.
|TO MAKE THIS A BIT SWEETER… THIS WAS MY DESSERT ONE NIGHT LAST WEEK.
SAN GERALDO JUST WATCHED.
San Geraldo and I were out for dinner last night at Meson Salvador. We went early to avoid the Holy Week crowds and noise and were surprised when Tynan and Elena came in a short time later. They had the same idea.
As usual, the stories and conversation were non-stop. Tynan happened to mention a friend of his from back in the north of England. Honestly, I don’t know what the point of the story was. Of course, with Tynan, there’s a good possibility he didn’t know the point of the story either.
Apparently, Tynan’s northern accent (from Derbyshire) has softened over his many years in Spain. But many English speakers here (unless they’re from northern England) still have a hard time understanding him. Tynan told us that an old friend from Derbyshire posted a message on facebook to one of his neighbors (who was missing a goose). The message read:
“If you’re wondering what happened to your goose, nobody stole it. A fox ate it.
From the opposite side of the small square table, San Geraldo, with eyebrows raised, stared at Tynan and said:
“You fucked Satan?”