Hey, Blog Guy! I was wondering, in a real bullfight, what is it that gets the bull to attack the matador? I’m assuming it’s the red cape, right?

Well, that’s what some people think, but not me.

Have you ever looked at the faces these matadors make in the ring? If you were face to face with one and you had two big sharp horns with you, what would YOU do with them? I mean, it’s not even a close call!

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REUTERS photos

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Clancy was mortified. WHY had he believed that salesman who said sissy clothes would be THE LOOK for the beach this season? Liar, liar, pants on fire!

So now, endless miles of Caribbean sand, and Clancy is the only one wearing gold braid and fuzzy epaulettes. The other guys are wearing flip-flops, not fuschia socks and dancing shoes like his.

The stockings made his legs sweat and there was sand in his shoes. He covered his face with his hands. He could hear laughter from towel to towel. Oh no! He remembered he had paid extra to have CLANCY embroidered on the back of his jacket. D’oh!

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Spanish bullfighter Javier Valverde prepares for a bullfight at in Seville, April 13, 2008. REUTERS/Javier Barbancho

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Oh, what have I done? Mom wanted me to be a chiropractor, but no! I knew better! Mister Smarty-Pants just HAD to be a matador!

So here I am, dressed like Elton John, in front of all these boobs who came to see blood. They expect me to take my sword and… Caramba! I left my sword at home, on the sofa! Under my CAPE! Can anything ELSE go wrong today?

“Well, there’s the roar of the crowd. That means they’ve let the bull in. It’s just me, this black beanbag on my head, and a one-ton bull. What? And the program says I’m FRENCH? I know, who’s even HEARD of a French bullfighter? Maybe if I stand real still…

Related posts: Meester bool and “So? What do you do?”

French matador Sebastian Castella crosses himself before starting a bullfight in The Maestranza bullring in Seville April 4, 2008. REUTERS/Marcelo del Pozo

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Blog Guy, I know you’ve said bullfighting isn’t a wise career choice for college seniors, but the profession still intrigues me. Isn’t there anything in the pointless animal torture field that might suit me?

Look, there’s more to a career than silly outfits. You might consider becoming a creepador. As you can see in this photo, this furtive fellow works in the shadows, irritating the bull with whispered slurs and insults, mostly recycled Don Rickles material. 

The creepador gets the bull so furious that it doesn’t notice the sniperdor, way up in the bleachers, who shoots the animal with a high-powered rifle just as the bullfighter is about to stick those pointed things in it. But remember, the creepador is like the vice president. If something happens to the real bullfighter, guess who gets an instant promotion?

Related links: A goofy job and Try not to impress him

A Spanish assistant bullfighter pokes his head out from behind the barrier during a bullfight in The Maestranza bullring in Seville April 2, 2008. REUTERS/Marcelo del Pozo

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Welcome to a feature we call “Euphemisms in the News.” The genuine photo caption here tells us “people try to avoid a bull which was set loose in the town center…as part of yearly celebrations…”

Um, do these folks not have access to the news? Doesn’t it seem a better way to avoid the bull would be to NOT come downtown that day?

You know, like take the bus to Barcelona instead. Or stay home and watch “Happy Days” reruns, or maybe join a group called “Citizens Against Releasing the Bull Downtown.” I don’t want to sound like Mr. Know-It-All, but I bet I could do a MUCH better job of avoiding that bull, year after year, than these people seem to be doing.

Related posts: “Let’s visit Spain and meet chicks!” and How to be a gentleman

People try to avoid a bull which was set loose in the town center of Vejer de la Frontera, southern Spain, as part of yearly “Toro Embolao” celebrations March 23, 2008. REUTERS/Anton Meres

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We have a story about a breeder of fighting bulls who  plans to clone his best stud. The stud sired two bulls that impressed a famous bullfighter named El Juli so much that we’re told he “keeps their heads mounted at home.”

Excuse me? Where I’m from, we don’t say, ”That’s a real impressive dog you have there, Judy! I’d like to hang its head in my rec room.” 

I’m guessing El Juli didn’t wait for those bulls to die of natural causes, either. It sounds like he has issues with expressing positive emotions in a healthy way. 

Maybe El Juli could try saying: ”What a wonderful bull! I will pay for him to spend the rest of his days sitting under a cork tree, just smelling the flowers.” For more details, refer to Ferdinand.

Spanish bullfighter Julian Lopez “El Juli” tries to get a bull’s attention during a bullfight in the northern Spanish town of Gijon, August 13, 2006. REUTERS/Eloy Alonso

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