Bob Koff


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Hola fuego fans,

Around New Year’s was yet another festival, whose name escapes me but was probably something like fiesta de la asphalt, and we did a little celebrating too. My favorite part was a somewhat recurring theme from past fiestas of racing through the streets with tubes spewing fire, perhaps to resurrect the family fun of coming out to watch folks burned at the stake. The attached photo was a little tough to interpret, but my best guess was that it was a lesson that showed how playing with matches sure can be fun if you spray the flames at everyone’s head! This exercise, to seek out future candidates for flame thrower training where you get to really handle some firepower, was carried out in the streets for about an hour. For some reason, we didn’t see the appeal of guys just wanting to blow up their friends in a city sponsored event, and chose to watch from the sidelines.

The rest of the week was pretty mild by comparison, with little gunfire or bombs going off like in the rest of the civilized world. We’re pretty cozy in our apartment now, and haven’t even had to deal with the real estate lady, who we now refer to as “Her whose name is not spoken.” We tried in vain to return an unwanted cordless phone to our favorite state run company, Telefonica, but the sales lady, who graduated with honors with a degree in making up excuses to get rid of pesky customers, told her that it was such an old model that they couldn’t take it back. We explained that they had delivered it just a month ago, but Ms “Just say No” responded that Telefonica is so technologically advanced that often they don’t even hook up phone lines because they know that mental telepathy is just around the corner. So we have a new addition to our communications center, and if you think programming a cordless phone is tough, try doing one with instructions in Spanish.

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Hola terror-weary amigos,
Staying one step ahead of the pack in fashion, architecture, and most recently dealing with the threat of terrorists, Barcelona recently introduced legislation requiring all terrorists to paint and clearly mark their cars with the words “Bombers” similar to the one pictured above. While some namby-pamby civil rights groups and their respective legal urchin questioned the move, recent polls show the majority of the voters favor the requirement. Most people consider it an overdue solution to deal with the pesky issue of separating the masses from those that choose a path considered by many to be counterproductive to the vitality of the city. Early results are encouraging, as it has allowed law enforcement agencies to follow the occupants of these vehicles, and apprehend them if there is any sign of suspicious activity. One recent success story involved the timely arrest of a driver and his companion who had just purchased some shady grocery items, such as aluminum foil and baking soda, which any fan of Steven Segal movies knows can be fashioned into a bomb capable of disabling a nuclear destroyer. The well worn alibi given by the couple of “just wanting to do a little baking” fell on deaf ears at their preliminary hearing, and they were whisked away under tight security to an undisclosed dungeon, reputed to be a historic leftover from the Spanish Inquisition. A spokesman for the Central Committee of Human Misanthropes, C-CHUM for short, assured worried relatives that the accused would receive a fair trial immediately following their complimentary cruise and swim in Barcelona’s famous shark-infested harbor.