Oh Là Là — Well will you look at the time

Technically, Öüï were Knot lying, for the past four days we [the staff of this blog] have tried to get both a face and ear injury on a judicial medical report for violence against u.s., period—full stop:

Based on a short story by Terry Bisson (1991).
They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”
“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.”
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they’re made out of meat.”

and then Eye looked directly at the doctor and said, you know doctor, Eye is no doctor, but Öüï here did spent a season shy of a decade sleeping with one of your medical colleagues at a Holiday Inn, and right now, doc, your Hippocratic Oath (sorry to note) is looking more like a Ministère de Education instrumentalisation tactic.

Il est onze heures, le gris commence
Per your greeter's instructions

Per your greeter’s instructions .:. B0DF0AAB-D93E-44B4-A319-A04FA6F9F688 .:. The following is a timestamp:
In Hilo, Hawaii, it’s 11 O’Clock.
Might you have the Time for Armenia and for Haut-Karabakh?

Now, Mr. K.L.Mediapart, Eye knows that any frog on the Lilly pond will probably just shrug the above-mentioned claim and move on, except that when she began to explain why the very first good doctor who evaluated us Eye began to syncopate what a hospital work rotation looked like, from the time that she is a medical student, through her hospital rotation periods and on through the time when her colleagues raise that hand to say: yada yada yada. Eye also revealed other knowledge that only a  spouse of a medical doctor would know about the politics that live in a Grey’s Anatomy tome. And that is when she agreed to talk to her section chief and long storEy sHort, the good doctor noted my injuries, with today’s date, but did tell Mí D.A.T. Eye would need to see a judicial “qualified” medical doctor to also note the same injuries because her diagnostic would not be legal in any court andconsidering that a big-ticket supermarket here in Paris, France, apparently trains their private security to beat up homeless people inside of their toilettes, then it would probably be incumbent upon us to obtain said medical diagnostic addendum to an already bursting file of Mí at the good Ol’ Préfecture de Police.

Hello, Mediapart — Meat The Monkees

Hello, Mr. K.L.Mediapart.

The reverb

The reverb–eration effect.:. 4472BF79-13CF-400E-9043-39FAB31FB71B .:. Off-course, if Eye told you, Mr. K.L.Mediapart, that Eye felt the Monoprix version of the rent-a-cop assault on a paying customer here in the Parisian “Downtown” before France 24 got out of bed on Friday morning, you would probably guess my name.

Please disregard the second part of today’ headers, the title, like Daron Noir is a play-on-words. The Brits, Meet The Beatles is the equivalent of your Baron Noir.

Anyhow, Mr. K.L.M., we, [the staff of this most non-consequential blog] stopped by your office earlier in the day and were given instructions at the door, on how to reach you, additionally, pay no attention to the snapshot below, the receptionist at the aforementioned door informed us that your contact protocols are operating on France’s 3rd Republic protocols, as in, “looking more towards 1914, than onwards to 1940, a paraphrase of course, —from 1973.

https ://fr .m .wikipedia .org /wiki /Le_Monde_en_guerre

Personally, and Eye means this with the utmost respect, we found it amusing that before we could even be allowed anywhere near your media company’s reception area, your Daronne at the door (see what we did D.A.R.E.?) would ask for original documents of all of the evidence of whatever information our envoy, Armando Segovia, was there to deliver before you or any media representative would consider granting us the time of day… interesting STONEWALL, very Thomas Edison of Mediapart, considering the flip-side of that particular request when your information gathering teams (journalists) go out and request an audience from the plebs on the streets. Fair enough, we will try to comply, just give u.s. a minute before noon in Hilo, Hawaii, in order to complete our 36 hour “OPEN SKIES” shift… in case you fuckers follow NATO news.

https ://dw .com /en /us-officially-withdraws-from-open-skies-transparency-pact /a-55691315

Indeed, Mr. K.L.Mediapart, we expected “shade” but we didn’t think that you operated under Parisian restaurants, bistros, and cafés window-seating access standards*.

But of course, all of the above sounds better when spoken in French, so have-at-it, Sir:

Previously on: this is why you can’t have nice thingys… Adrienne Monnier

Alsace, Eastern France/Western Germany_ TIMESTAMP: 19 de junio de 1955

Dear, Madame Hidalgo (Cc: Matignon):

https ://www .france24 .com /en /france /20201121-new-french-law-banning-images-of-police-sparks-civil-rights-concerns-protests

The following is a Twilight Zone (tribute) script, it is based on the question that Parisian insert and, “pollo rostizado” enthusiast, doña Vilma Fuentes posed to James Joyce about Ulysses or, was it Walt Whitman… who cares! The point is that doña Vilma wants to know what ‘Adriannitititita‘ would say about the COVID–19 confinement and, —coincidently— Öüï actually had the opportunity to run into Adrianne a couple of days ago when Öüï made a stop at Odeon on our way to Saint Germaine-des-Près, and this is what Adrianne Monnier told MÍ:

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Las fuentes de doña Vilma:

Just in time context

Just in time context .:. 62C9F523-4EDA-466F-819D-0B37E3A72182 🇲🇽 … [S]hould anyone be keeping score of the cast of luminaries mentioned on this blog and their specific corresponding story arcs on our posts, you should remember that for doña Vilma Fuentes the drug Hydroxichloroquine®️ is the connection to the title of this political cartoon featured in La Jornada, the tangent across this Venn Diagram includes the first reported death (or at least the one that Öüï heard first) for taking doña Vilma’s COVID panacea without a doctor’s order in Great State of Arizona, the irony of it is, that the supplement (with hydroxichloroquine) that killed that poor person in Arizona was supposed to help maintain water pets in that household in “good health”, while at the same time providing for ”an equilibrium” in the exhausting daily life of an aquatic being lounging around in a glass tank. Moral of this segment: Hydroxichloroquine supplements, good for fishbowls, bad for fish lovers

Many voices have risen to denounce the scandal (malicious gossip used as a noun by doña Vilma): how can the French government decide that the sale of “rotisserie chicken” is more “essential” —word used in the decree— than that of a health book or for the equilibrium of the daily life of a population? (which population? Doña Vilma does not explain, but Öüï gets a sense of who she is privileging with her remarks) Is it possible to imagine Adrianne Monnier (sic).

https ://www .jornada .com .mx/2020/11/22 /opinion /a05a1cul

Fuckkkkkkkk, Eye didn’t think

Indeed, that’s a real Mexican Avocado

Last night my Right Eye discovered That French cops were Pussies, —at the time when i asked for my property back— but some, are just EXACTLY like them little American cops.

Good morning, it’s 9.20 in the morning and today is Mexican Revolution They.

ODEON

ODEON M4… next stop, Saint Germain-des-Près .:. A2024EF1-AA99-4C46-B541-461C1E4B8155 … Three Little Words Siren, you got, IT!, Sirene: FUCK YOU COP.

Quick note, if you ever get pepper-sprayed, point-blank and TO your Face, you must remember that the chemical will stay in your eyes for a good portion of the following 24 hours. Lucky for u.s., we visited the Soup Populaire at the 6th District, of 16 (now) and the good people there hooked us up with a little bottle of VITAMINs B6 and D, which we did not drink earlier in the day (yesterday), like yogurt, or milk, anything that makes for a happy movement of SHIT is a good remedy for the pepper-spray that insecure “little” debutant cops throw at you.

Some people call me the space cowboy

Some people call me the space cowboy .:. You know my name, you know where i lay, you even know where i take a steamy shit, and You Motherfuckers know that if i wanted to steal anything from La France, well THEN i would have asked Los Amigos de México in France for the “permission” necessary to obtain a Talents and Skills visa… like the one that Marcelo Ebrard nice got to able to study at Sciences Po in 2015 (during the year of Mexico in the Hillary Clinton Latino outreach in the U.S.A.) check La Matriculacion, or as we bums on skid row very often say: check your surveillance feed.

ISSY Mr. Macron: FUCK THE POLICE, if they punish the paying customer at MONOPrix®️, and you know what the IRONY of it  is, Mme. Hidalgo? That the CEO of Franprix and Monoprix used to be a roofless sonovabitch just like yours truly.  

Page 26: DECOUVERTS, « Trois lieux où mieux consomer » ; À Paris AUTOME 2020.

 

Dear, Anne Hidalgo… please forward to Mr. Macron

Now before i continue with this most non-consequential blog, be advised that tonight, your police officers relinquished from me a pair of needle nose pliers that Eye uses to remove the staples from the cardbox boxes that i use as mattresses, Eye is sorry for dispensing your pepper EYE spray on Mí.

OPEN YOUR BAG!!!

These where actually the words from the MAGAZINE manager, before i asked that motherfucker to review the surveillance feed.

I foresee that every move that Eye makes, will be monitored, but please BITCH, tell your cops to strike and get,IT!, over WITT!… bunch of pussies.

You are going to miss Mí when Eye is gone. Mark My pepperspray.

Previously on, Los Huevos de El General — Don’t forget to flush… what are you FRENCH!

Goooooooood morning Paris!

DECIDE

DECIDEJAZZ is in full Swing … en negritas ⚖️ CDBDD28B-E916-43B0-B0E0-751591A2F12A 🔭 And, love: isn’t it Ironic.
Sur la decision fixant le pays de destination:

11. En se bornant à soutenir que les minorités hispaniques SONT VICTIMES DE RACISM, ou qu’il déjà étè expose à des discriminations aux Etats-Unis en raison de ses origines mexicaines, M. Segovia n’établit qu’il risquerait d’être expose à des traitements inhumaines ou dégradants en cas de retour aux Etat-Unis. Le moyen tiré de la méconnaissance de l’article 3 de la YADA, Yada, yada convention européenne de sauvegarde des droits de l’homme (¡y de la mujer también… bola de putos!!!) et des libertés fondamentales doit être écarté.

Öüï reminds our non-reading audience that to celebrate tonight’s Mexican Revolution Eve, the governments of FRANCE*, The United States, and of course, México agreed that the best thing to do about El General Cienfuegos (💯🔥’s) was to just let him go back to the State of Toluca, where los Amigos de FRANCIA en México will prepare a feast for the returning General. VIVA EL TRIBUNAL ADMINISTRATIVO de París, and of course, QUE viva la French Civil Servant STEPHANIE MENOU and her supervisor Bruno of the 6th and 7th dépôt office at Cité… (75004)

* Why La France? Go check out our section of the brown Mexican military eagles at the 2015 Bastille Day Parade, and this book.

Meanwhile in California, Evry Body wants to be a Cat!

Planet Carmel by LA Mer

Planet Carmel by LA Mer[de].

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On the menu:
— Steamed salmon with Asparagus (sans aspersions*) on white rice with choice of Molho de Caril and Harissa de Carthage.

Of course, the very french

Of course, the very french… 17A752C9-D71C-4BB4-A933-19AFA284DBB5 … [N]ever make collaborations… wait scratch that! The Very French never made Voltaire… or something like that.

… and Tom Nichols, “Zeppelin goes here!” , motherfucker.

Inter mezzo : el corrido del aguacate

Now y’all probably heard (on the Johnny Canales Show) about el famoso “aguacate” en la voz de mando de Los Bravos del Norte… y, no, no es una d’esas Mick, because contrary to what David Guetta would want y’all motherfuckers to believe is that los aguacates de la Banda, no son iguales a los aguacates de La Sierra, ni mucho menos como los aguacates del género Norteño.

https ://es .wikipedia .org /wiki /Género_musical

—O.K., willWe’ll give some land to the niggers and the chinks, but we don’t want the Irish!

Evry Body!!!

Evry Body!!!

Olson Johnson,
Rockridge (at Burbank Studios) Chamber of Commerce.
Blazing Saddles, Ltd.

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Maggie Thatcher agrees:

Ain’t nobody, Chaka: