Here a poyim ta shiv in your pipe. I caught Santa, nudging out onto Byres Road. Near the height of the seasonal panic and topical. Half a Pall Mall threatened to crumble. Its ash south of the Clyde. Big Claus though, if he noticed. It hardly showed as he flung the green Berlingo right.

Hips popping, elbowed guitar. Blink blunk, blink blonk. Bassoon to the womb stone kneels. For her icebox pinup board. She has sent her leprechauns. This blue moon of Shively. Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici.

Collaborative Coverage of WC 2014. The ends and the means. Why do people tie themselves in knots about narrative in sport? Sometimes I think about what sport might be like without these overarching stories of achievement and strugg.

A research community for UK scholars studying latinidad. Thursday, 6 October 2016. When should we have coffee? No eres de aquí? .