I’ve posted items recently on the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. And while I don’t think there is anything very macho about that activity - unless by macho you mean pathetic - I admit it does have some cachet when compared with another event this week.

Toro de Cuerda!! In English, that is “Bull on rope.” Yes. A bull restrained by a rope is allowed to “run” through the mean streets of Grazalema, Spain, while folks hide on handy structures above him. 

I’m not sure, but I believe the participants wear gore-proof clothing and have four-inch-thick safety glass between them and the animal, who for all I know may just be two guys in a bull costume.

Go ahead, try saying this in your most MACHO voice: “Oh, Si! I climbed above the tethered old arthritic bull who wears bifocal glasses!” Not exactly straight out of Hemingway, is it?

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People hold on to a window to avoid a bull during an event entitled ‘Toro de Cuerda’ (Bull on Rope) where a bull restrained by a rope is allowed to run through the streets in Grazalema, southern Spain July 21, 2008. REUTERS/Jon Nazca

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Oh brother, can I pick ‘em or what? On the Internet, this guy seemed so normal, but then I meet him in person…

He told me online he “works with animals.” Yeah. Turns out he tortures them to death!

He also said he’s a snappy dresser. Jeez Louise, he’s got a jacket decorated with 6,000 pieces of unpopped popcorn beaded together! It’ll be fun to see what happens when the intense July sun heats up those kernels out in the bull ring.

At least I had a chance to slather grease all over his sword handle when he wasn’t looking. When he tries poking that thing into some poor bull, Señor Jiffy Pop is in for quite a surprise. 

Spanish bullfighter Jose Prados “El Fundi” adjusts his costume before a bullfight on the eighth day of the San Fermin festival in Pamplona July 13, 2008. REUTERS/Dani Cardona

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Goodness gracious, now I’ve done it! I should have stayed with the tour, but no, I knew better!

So I guess this place must be one of those gigolo bars. Sheesh, every man in here is dressed better than I am. They all have those fancy things on their shoulders like they’re colonels or something, but I bet they’re not. They even have CAPES for cripes sake, and here I am in a plain dress!

They all look so smarmy, but they’d be offended if I left without an escort. I’ve gotta break the ice. How do you suppose you say “Do you want some flan?” in Spanish?

French bullfighter Juan Bautista (2nd R) waits for the start of the fourth bullfight of the San Fermin festival in Pamplona, Spain, July 10, 2008. REUTERS/Susana Vera

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Dear Mama and Papa Bull, it’s exciting here in Pamplona! I can sure see why us bulls love the annual Running of the Tourists!

I feel a little guilty, though. Face it. If these people had any brains they wouldn’t be out jogging with huge honking bulls. Then they drink gallons of wine, just to give us even more of an edge!

Yesterday I suddenly just sat down, Ferdinand-style, and that really confused them. I sneered at this guy in a red shirt, and I think he soiled his pants right there!

The trick is to poke and toss the tourists just for fun, but not hurt ‘em enough to get into trouble. Today we might just squash the whole bunch of them, then go for paella. I tell you, it’s just a shame we don’t know which ones are studying to be matadors!

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Above: Runner falls on top of a bull during the running of the bulls in Pamplona, July 9, 2008. REUTERS/ Susana Vera

Below: Bull stops in the middle of the street in Pamplona,  Spain, July 9, 2008.  REUTERS/ Joseba Etxaburu

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It’s funny how words change in meaning. A 1990 fashion headline tells us, Givenchy and Valentino Revel in Luxury. Now, the 2007 photo caption below informs us, Revellers wrestle in chocolate…

I started noticing a couple of months ago that every news photo caption we had from the running of the bulls in Pamplona contained the word revellers, even when folks were about to revel under a bull’s hoofprint stamped on their faces.

I did a caption search and found 200 shots of revellers from the past 90 days, mostly of people wallowing in mud, beer, foam, wine, sweat and worse. I don’t know, but it seems to me revelry was more fun back when you didn’t have to be hosed off afterwards.

Revellers wrestle in chocolate during the one-week, round-the-clock Sziget (’Island’) Music Festival on an island in the Danube river, in Budapest August 13, 2007. REUTERS/Laszlo Balogh

Hey, Blog Guy, I hear there’s a town someplace where everybody looks like the author Ernest Hemingway. What would that be like? It sounds very Kafkaesque!

Well, no, it would be Kafkaesque if they looked like Franz Kafka, but I know what you mean. You’re talking about a place in Florida where they all look like actress Mariel Hemingway’s grandfather for a few days a year. I believe plastic surgery is involved.

Boy, you really know a lot. Is that where Hemingway wrote his classic book about a retired man who goes back to college but only gets very average grades?

Yes, that would be “The Old Man and the C.” 

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Ernest Hemingway lookalikes conclude the annual “Running of the Bulls,” outside Sloppy Joe’s Bar in Key West, Florida, July 21, 2007. A facet of the island’s annual Hemingway Days festival, Key West’s whimsical version of the bull run is much shorter and far safer than its counterpart in Pamplona, Spain. REUTERS/Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau/Handout

Dear Mommy,
It’s great visiting Daddy! I’m having the most fun any 10-year-old boy could have! We got ice cream, we saw the new Harry Potter movie, we ran with the bulls in Pamplona, we…

Excuse me? Yeah, it turns out this mother in Spain was less than thrilled to pick up a newspaper and see a photo of her ex-husband leading their son by the  arm just a few feet in front of the bulls, in that annual festival where guys do things they would never think of doing sober.

A judge has since revoked visitation rights, and the father may have to wait’ll the cows come home to see his son again. 

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A runner is chased by a bull during the fifth day of the running of the bulls at the San Fermin festival in Pamplona July 11, 2007. REUTERS/Joseba Etxaburu

“Well, Mr. Know-It-All, this is a fine mess. You said, let’s run down this alley, and they’ll go for that dude standing in the doorway! How does that seem to be workin’ for us so far?

“And you were the smarty-pants who said we could yell anything we wanted in English, because bulls only know Spanish! I guess maybe they have a damned foreign phrase book, ya think?

“While we’re at it, you said we’d be safe if we got really, really drunk, because bulls fear the smell of red wine! Don’t you ever get tired of being wrong, Floyd? And another thing…”

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Runners and fighting bulls from the Jose Cebala Gago ranch enter the bullring during the fourth day of the San Fermin festival in Pamplona July 10, 2007. REUTERS/Vincent West

Who could have guessed that the next big trend would be nun-matador bars? But here they are, wildly successful - at least, you know,  in cities that have both nuns and matadors.  Of course, you may have different ideas about what’s going on in this photo. Try your hand at a clever caption, and send it our way via Post a Comment. 

You come here often? Nuns talk to Spanish assistant bullfighters before the start of a bullfight at Pamplona’s bullring on the last day of the San Fermin festival July 14, 2006. REUTERS/Susana Vera 

An unsuspecting tourist smiles, unaware that hooligans have just dropped a large black beanbag onto his head.  Still, that’s nothing compared with the surprise he’s about to get, when that big wooden gate opens.  Let’s all watch what happens…. 

Or, maybe something else altogether different is happening in this newsphoto. Drop us your best captions via Post a Comment. 

Bullfighter Manuel Jesus ‘El Cid’ waits for the start of a bullfight at Pamplona’s bullring during San Fermin festival July 12, 2006. REUTERS/Eloy Alonso