Eye think Eye’am turning Japanese — on a Mexican Radio
The following news dose must be taken with an indivisable spoon of Sarah’s humor.
… but first,
a word from our sponsors:
Client: Time–Life Collections
Market: C&W Ballads and Bad (as in not good)
Rock and Roll
Artist: Raquel Dowmad and The Alabama Charmins
Label: Aquí los Molineros en CET
¡Señora! que No le Digan, que No LE Cuenten:
La hache es muda and perhaps—perhaps falta Un Cuarto para Las Doce.
Right now, however, (mr.) Benson, it’s 19 hundred hours in Central Marvel Time.
Issy, later in the programming,
it’s Los Hermanos Carry–on…
“que las Cerezas están maduras,
eso lo sé”,
lo que no sé es si Eagle Eye is hanging around La Seine, eh?
Right about now,
someone is Lost in Paris
and it’s the bottom of 3 o’Clock in Central NATO Time
Mean while Trump, over on Book TV, shit–kicking troubador George Strait talks Led Zeppelin goes here, aeroplanos, and of course, The Process… marvel at that.
“Blame it on Mexico”
TimeStamp 16.20 in CET
[Man outside of a Tombstone watering hole is reading the Tucson Rif-Raf and he is heard thinking out loud. It’s 8.20 in Mountain Time.]
—¡Hay, Wey!… Eye reckon that we should take a look at them “Golden Gate keys for free”.
[So, as the 2018 Midterm Election continues with the vote verification and other assorted vote counting tasks, the ‘blue wave’ continued to move inland and quench another Republican red spot on the electoral map, and one of the most “picantes” out there.]
Heck, —Why, Joe Arpaio— that racist son–of–a–gun resides there— he calls the Gila Bend and the Organ National Park his “little” Tennessee. Why, that racist Dragoon (Arpio, not The Thing, there) makes Patagonia and the Buenos Aires Wildlife Refuge his hunting ground. Now, with an imaginary God (Bowie) as my Witness*, i do hope that someday, Eloy, or (mr.) Naco get to piss on “his” goddamned racist Tombstone.
*. Rambo’s imaginary birthplace…
Ewe know, the kind of “imaginary” soldiers that Our Current president
tries to emulate on the political world stage;
es decir, Linda,
haciendo todo mierda con su “experiencia militar”.
Full disclosure, we [the staff] are big fans of Tucson (Don Lalo, querida Linda, was from one side of them Railroad Tracks) and of course Douglas, too.
… ISSY, Right Now, at 17.55 on the Central Seine Wave it’s the ONE-FINGER salute to the Eagles of Death Metal… fuck them and fuck their SilverLake y su pinche NRA.
We now return to our regular programming.
Please, for the love of that imaginary god,
We Urge to Not Try, we [the staff] repeat:
Do Not Try to Adjust Your Settings.
Right now, however we [the staff] switch it over to The Avengers on a Blue Wave and frequency hop our way to Jupiter’s court where a Connect–i–Cut Yankee is about to ax his chords through a Siren’s Den… or something like that!
Jazz from Abroad returns.
It’s a, Secret in Three Views
at 18.20’ish in Central Europe Time.
Over on the C–SPAN 3 satellite feed,
it’s Jon Meacham’s
Fight with our better Angels… Tight with our better Angels… Fight for our better Angels.
Cousin Ted and The Buffalo Mooseheads Roughnecks… or something like that.
The Soul of America, Chapter THREE;
With Soul of Flame and Temper of Steel…
but in reality he’s just a “Teddie Bear.”
Hey there Chuck Todd, what if…
What if Conrad Brean
in the role of Live–eviL Productions
middle–aged spin doctor,
Bobby deNiro was behind Sarah Huckabee’s memos regarding the Narrative of the South of the border Rush to your precious “Republic”?
Don’t miss another calumnious episode of Info Wars–es-es, and of course “Rush” news on the Fox News propaganda machine. Only on AFN TV… that’s A. F. N. Télévision, your trusted media network in the Central European Command.
In the meantime, hoy NO hubo Jazz From Abroad, we [the staff] repeat… hoy NO hubo Jazz From Abroad, hoy hubo Jazz local. A frog tocó las puertas de Monk:
Ewe know, we [the staff] have been writing it for a while now on this most inconsequential blog:
The good thing about this blog, is that in France, the frogs don’t listen to National Public Radio.
Mean, while Trump was watching TFI, or BFM, o a lo mejor hasta C-NEWS en su apartamento en la Embajada estadounidense à Champs Élysées , Lorne Michaels, re-evaluated his editorial content for the next Congressional session in the U.S., via a poor broken-hearted son–of–a–Gun.
And like that, The Second Rendition of The Eleventh Hour arrived in Paris.
Earlier in the programming,
a blimp was trying to get
“Sur les jupes” de una agitadora
de nombre MARIANA.
En fin, allá con Colin [that’s “little tail” en Espagnol] no hubo noticias. so we switch it over to San Lunes.