Dear, Peter Navarro… the producers pass it to you

Them flames DARE are the hardest to put out.
Just Ask California ; however,
Don’t ask Chihuahua because Beto O’Rourke’s father-in-law business partner made sure that no motherfucking pine trees remained en la Sierra Tarahumara
for the motherfucking elements to burst,
and/or IGNITE.

It's the 11th hour

It’s the 11th Hour.

… and, motherfucker ; them billion dollar babies are all carpet—bagging Golondrinas, who [in a “Just–In–time Six-Sigma, NYSE minute] stalled MoTown. Now go home, mr. Navarro, and suck Stephen Miller’s cock, while your significant other has Tea with the wives.

In New York it is STILL the 11th Hour, in the key of Bad Rock and Roll.

—Still a–Head, “look, Up In Da’Sky!”. It’s a bird!—

After you've gone

“After you’ve gone” is a public service announcement from the Virginia Beach Chamber of Commerce and your local utility BILL.

“Nope, it’s just my middle finger,” said Attorney General Dickie Barr while dozed on sleeping pills, meanwhile ; the count is 150 for N.R.A. approved machine gun massacres, the good thing is that the bullets are 100 per-cent American made re-made (with high-tariffed Chinese gun powder) in the back of a garage.

 

—Make it R.A.I.N. Chesty Puller, make it rain ; with that maple spiced smoke over the upper block of them EST’s, which of course is getting into your Brown EyEs, —turned blue.

Over at the Jazz Tribune Artie Shaw is doing “The Grabtown Grapple”, in Organized Grab–Ass Standard (and by–the–book) Times.

 

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