Posts Tagged Asterix
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 12,000 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 20 years to get that many views.
That’s all folks. We made it through to the other side. Give yourselves a pat on the back.
An Englishman’s home is his castle, and his front lawn is his Hanging Garden of Babylon..
..and he’s nothing if not tolerant and polite.
And we have saved the best til last.
The Britons: we talk funny..
..we drink warm beer..
..and are awful cooks.
Denmark: home of insane rage and introspection.
(“Am I an explorer, or am I not?…”)
(“To be or not to be, that is the question…”)
Asterix’s Spain is full of proud, and slightly mental, people. Like most of the rest of his world, in fact.
Right. Drink up your magic potion, and eat up your roasted wild boar – this week sees a full-on Asterixarama (with a brief 2-wheel detour in the country of his origin, but more of that on Wednesday) in order to get us all across the finishing line of this, the longest of theme weeks yet: let’s cane this mother, as René Goscinny might (but actually definitely never would) say.
The Belgians? Famous for, um, their rampant aggression..
..and equally rampant appetite?
I suspect there’s some kind of inter-Francophonic rivalry thing going on here. The French generally have a pretty low opinion of the Belgiums, and my best guess is that this is the cultural equivalent of an English cartoonist portraying the Scots as teetotal purveyors of fine foods (pot, kettle, black, anyone?).