Um idiota no "Sunday Times"! (Apenas excertos da idiotice mor!)

"Table Talk by AA Gill - Restaurant Tugga

I’ve never been to Portugal, so my prejudices about the salty Iberian appendix are unsullied and uncorrupted by acquaintance. It is with a disinterested authority therefore, that I can say Portugal is Belgium for golfers, a place so forgettable that the rest of us haven't even bothered to think up a rude nickname for it. Portugal is Britain's oldest ally — like that keen exchange student your mother forced you to be nice to, and who turned up in paperweight glasses and national costume. It's also the only colonial power that was given independence by its own colony. Brazil told Lisbon it would just have to stand on its own two feet now, because, frankly, being seen out with it was getting embarrassing. Portugal's colonial reputation was for being overfamiiiar with the folk they were ripping off. In fact, there is a theory that the Portuguese only got an empire as a desperate attempt to get laid. The world is dotted with plain mates on double dates, countries that are gawkier, hairier, shyer, goofier and less entertaining than their friends. Their main purpose is to make the next-door neighbour look good. Obviously, there's Canada, which is the ugly friend of America. New Zealand is the dingo date for Australia. Ulster is the foul-gobbed psycho with a neck tattoo out with lyrical, literate, craicing Eire. But how depressing must it be to be the forgettable one out on a date with Spain? It's a Ladyshave assault course. Portugal has been doomed to be the mini-me España. It's Spain that's famous for sailors and discoverers, when, in fact, the Portuguese were better and braver at it. Spain got fascism and Franco; Portugal just got some bloke called Salazar, but nobody noticed. Spain got bullfights, flamenco, Penelope Cruz and Real Madrid; Portugal got golf courses, Porto, gout and domestic servants. Name three famous Portuguese who weren't sailors. Or three of your favourite Portuguese dishes. Okay, so there's bacalao (salt cod), those little custard tarts and, erm, another one of those delicious little custard tarts. ...........

(E a estupidez continua!)