Día de La Candelaria en el Calendario.
Under tout Circunvalaciones.
So, 1991 won’t let me lie:
This wasn’t supposed to happen, Sugarcube, but when the band was hitting the waves on the European MTV, the guy wearing spectacles at the Department of The Army would latter become the Darkest Matter (and a beatless piece of shit) in the entire Galaxy, he called his sous–chef “Mr. President”. We [the staff] were just earning our first set of “mosquito Wings” for being all the best D.A.T. Öüï could bee.
Fast-forward to 2019 and the sounds and images from the Death of Glam Rock creeps to mind:
Here We Are Now, Acting Stupid. And contagious.
Hoy no hubo Jazz
¿Qué le dijo el pinche Tiber a los cuates en Mesopotamia?
—Bill is the Best.
and Ann Hidalgo, goes:
—even if the Steak está chamuscado.
and The Soul of America dice:
Va’querer cat soup with that?
and NO, Siren. Two is my limit for a Lazy no news Saturday à République. No insistas.
Red Light District Update: