Comin’ up on the Jasmin Soul Stack… i’ts gonna–Bee a Heartbreaker

Mind the wine, Kitty,
and nevermind The Spill.
Here come The Mason’s.
It’s a 33 ¹/3 r.p.m’s. of Joy—y’all.

as seen on a Stream and heard on a bus: Privacy Settings; time now, 14 hundred hours in Central NATO —and a Turkey’s— Time, but really, Mika, it’s the Sequeal to “the shrimp on the Barbies”. Nice, scarf… d’ya get that fabric while shopping at La Côte d’Azur?

Step right in.

Still looking for symmetry?
Le’mee get the compás, Compa.

Yo!!! Jimmy Jas
i got’s to borrow Dat Dare
Flint shooter in yo’ hand.

Still to come at The Jazz Central Station, it’s:
Previously sur les jupes del Emperador de Paris… Tonight at 7.

Veinte para las doce

It’s 3 pm in Ozmosis Time
“Eye can’t seem to see you baby »
although my I’s are dotted on the Line.

Sill to côme,
It’s The Librari Ladi
with Special guest:
The Womin in Red
Musical Geist… sorry,
Musical Guest:
Whisky and Wimen

At veinte para las cinco… sigue la Sexta, Sixto… pa’que le avises al Paul.

… as Stars are on that BUS (à Beaubourg above),
i’m Gonna see You when it comes To: G.L.O.R.I.A. — GLO_ria.

It’s Five o’Clock y’all.

Here it comes… Mick. One especially LOREM Ipsum for you.

Urgent message from Urgences: HOY NO HUBO JAZZ!!!

It’s 19.hundred hours in Central Siren Time

Once again, hoy no hubo jazz, because there was an urgent message from Urgencías. Natacha Polony (Yes, Mika, the Pôles keep talking) from Marianne is singing a song about Willie Nelson trying to spike our Muse’s (Norah) drink, because it’s cold outside, or something like that.

Ladies in Gemeni, in Hoy no hubo jazz, les BFMers are putting Natacha Polony center stage on their screen; Oh, The Humanity!!! Natacha is wearing GREEN.

Happening right now,
On the other side of the flint shooter
and Sur Les Jupes Del Emperador de:
Ewe guessed it!

… in the City.
—What city?
Nevermind the City, it’s all the Same motherfucking ghetto.

Mean, while Trump was being Putin’s baby–bitch, Bumbblebee was stuck between 8 master Masons and an Honorary DRE.

Yo, Mick… this is a free–Jacked frame in progress. Luc Fregon and his « Soccer » playing pandas follow.

And for all the Small Moto K–Ka´s out there, les recordamos que Luc Fregon (el fregón no llevo Acento) y hoy no tuvo Ancestros, puros Flics, or something like that y, por si faltara más; Las Sirenas no tocaron Jazz el día de Hoy… Fucking Thursday. Oh well, fuck it let’s put up a Christ–Más tree.

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