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Public Holiday Monday. You have a beautiful face. Elsewhere, things are not so hopeful, as the Catalan referendum got ugly, Justin Trudeau got sexier and Paris got fit.




 Catalan referendum suddenly gets very Spanish, as Government clamps down.

If you’re wondering why viscera pools in Catalan gutters this morning, the quick answer is that Spain has a long history of illegal elections turning bloody. This morning, the result of the original has manifested anew, as the Government clamped down on the referendum for Catalan independence, forcibly closing 92 polling stations, leaving 761 injured.


The entire schism in a trite breath is: Franco overthrows the elected Communist government in 1936, civil war erupts. The clash cleaves Spain in twain, boiling down to two spheres of influence: Madrid versus Barcelona. Franco rules until 1973, ever since, the very palpable issue has been fought on the football pitch, while Catalonia (who FC Barcelona are the main source of pride) speak loudly, as they always have, for independence.


Consider this merely the next chapter of what’s already been written.



Trudeau responds to Edmonton terrorist attack, exhibits gulf in class.

I don’t want to turn this into a millennial Trudeau mash note, but that man knows how to lead, hard. Govern me, Senpai. Overnight, a knife attack in Edmonton left two dead, which authorities are treating as a terrorist attack. However, what matters, moving forward, is what Justin said.


I’m unsure why his power is implemented so adequately, as I’m unsure he looks great only by comparison, and in more enlightened times, he’d just be another ex-Boxer with a rich dad, but, these times, they are a-gratin’

In the interest of fairness, here’s an image of the alternate, wearing a hat indoors.


Paris destroys every automobile on their streets…for a day.

For anyone who has endured the final stage of the Tour de France, you’ll know that the challenge quickly shifts to who can drink the most champagne, as the unforgiving cobblestone of Paris forever remains unraced upon. C’est shame. However, a day of vengeance was organised overnight, where Parisians could take to the streets to duke it out a la Mad Max, or Furieux Maxine style.

Well, sort of. Paris was a car-free day, as the streets were free of cars. Makes sense. Tell you what though, as a city that sees minor automobile accidents as not only a tradition, but a reality of living there, the act is certainly worth an earnest nod.




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