Coahuila, Larry, “remember Durango, mister Zimmerman?
The Year of France in Chihuahua, and i (Armando Segovia) bet that Ewe motherfuckers didn’t think that Öüï had the cards to play at The Préfecture de Police level, now did you? NOW, Cousin Joe, all that i ask is that they (the good people at Cité) play fair and not with the marked “Mexican” cards de Barbara Carol de Obeso and Stéphanie Menou, S.V.P..
Hot chili 🌶️ peppers in the blistering sun.
Super-imposing Les on le plan de une légende ; or VICE-Versa.
… as mentioned earlier on the Map of that garden there on top of the food section and of course the first motion picture theater in the whole wide world of Frogs, ‘i had to drain the Snake’ ; o como dicen los muy franceces-esos, faire de la pi-pi.
Later during the early morning of the previous Hard THEYS Night i, Armando Segovia, would learn through the slip-of-the-tounge of my assigned interrogation* officer at the police station that la meuf was Canadian, not gringa.
Sweet Dreams are made of this.
*~. ‘member NOW, i was very courteously driven to the commissariat “en calidad de testigo protegido” but upon my arrival and after they offered me a cup of Joe (which i courteously rejected) i found myself in a room with four desks, each one accessorised with cops who did not uttered a single word during my testimonial “interview” , if one could call it that. A few minutes after my assigned interrogation officer slipped the apparent victim’s nationality a large woman who looked more like a Russian character taken out of a James Bond flic’ walked into the interrogation room and sat between two of the desks ; that bitch too kept her beak shut but her eyes did all the talking.
Now one thing that the non-readers of this most non-consequential blog (especially in North Bergen, NJ) is that i have for one reason or another been at least a dozen times in front or rather, across the the beautiful and/or charismatic persona of a French National Police officer, so the beautiful eyes and fair skin on a skin-thight police uniform got my little snake rattled, yes, but not shaken or stirred.
🌠 The More Ewe Knew …
The surname Morán is of Spanish origin and is considered toponymic, derived from the term “mora,” which refers to a type of fruit or plant, such as the blackberry or the sweet berry.
hence, “la moral”… pues es un árbol que da moras.
