Parodía, Porto Y Paracetamol

It’s for Science’s sake...

Sniff and tell me if it smells like freshly ground coffee beans.

Saturday, July 17th 2017… tomorrow an absolute majority is expected in French politics, and that could be the start — of a beautiful Reign… pero mientras eso se cocina, aquí abajo hay un cocktel:

Anton Gustav Matoš, par: Ivan Kozarić… it’s a statue about a guy who thought that being  [human] was more beautiful than becoming a king… o algo así. —|— Foto capturada en el Jardín de la Antigua Capilla, del Antiguo Hospital Corentin-Celton en Issy-Les-Moulineaux; 92130. Photo by: armando segovia / Segoviaspixes 2017… CreativeCommons—and all that good stuff—ShareAlike.

Dear Doctors, my doctors:

How long before the twenty-some pills, plus the bottle of Porto begin to put my Spirit to sleep? Should i have chosen Vodka or Gin? Or, maybe a straight chugg of AntiFreeze?

Anyway, FYI, and with regards to the side effects of Paracetamol and a bottle of Porto, (plus 4 pints-each of strong beer as an apéritif before the intake) i mean, with you being Scientists and Researchers and all, i figured that you would appreciate the annotations of displayed symptoms and reactions of this experiment. Soooooo, with that in mind:

1. Be advised that right now the damn potion is having a wierd effect on my body; think Tadalafil and its intended effects on the male organ —and Mary— i’m not talking Morning Glory here, i mean, TimeStamp when i annotated this paragraph was 11hrs and i’d been ‘up-and-at’em’ since 0300 hours.

2. For this particular side effect i’d have to request a second opinion, but short of “knock knock knocking” at the doors of the Georges Pompidou European Research Center, you gals are going to have to trust me on this one, or you may come down and check for yourself… i mean, i don’t want to come off as a weirdo to the nice people that pass near by, imagine if you will, what would you say to a complete stranger who stopped you on the way from point “A” to point “B” and asked of you: … excuse me, could you please confirm if the scent that is currently emanating from my upper torso (and from my armpits) has a scent of freshly grounded coffee beans? Or, would you say that my sense of smell has gone out of whack? [picture surprised reaction of of passerby]… i would then follow with a standard Line, such as,  It’s for Science and the Glory of France —and all that good stuff… Please, do check the appropriate box. Thank you and have a nice day.

3. Aside from a slight headache (lower part of my head, right before the nape) i’ll have you know that all is well… i blame this particular discomfort on that damn bottle of Porto [and a broken heart] and not on the 25 pills.

With no new developments for now, i’m gonna stop and get myself a cheese burger, or something like that, hey, if i make it to tomorrow morning i’ll post the price of a fine French bottle of antifreeze from Chateau Michelin.


… coming up en Ocho días: La Gangrena de México, explicada para los lectores de El Mundo, en Francés… “Martín Solares éclaire ici les raisons pour lesquelles celle-ci perdure: CORRUPTION À TOUS LES NIVEAUX DE l’ETAT et la SPHERE ECONOMIC… etc., etc,. etc… / Uso justo de Le Monde. Merci.

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