…[J]ust the « estupefacientes », ma’am”

Pas, the Topo Chico®️ & Lima.

It’s official, fip don’t know Jack. Ladies in Gemini, it is with great sadness that we [the staff] have to bring the sad, sad—nEws, regarding the “forced” re-structuring of the fip Waves along the Seine.

The tectonic shift was swift and SERtero, some fucking dude from the Cisco re-districted “district” forced the Sirens, and their handlers, —of course— into a bogus “Census” rebranded as “cookie gathering”.

Cookie Monster, a frequent listener was flabbergasted by “Radio France International” decision to succumb to the capo de tutti las cumbias, in the Haute de Seine, a KNEW OWNER: the fucking twitt, o algo así.

La Rana Rene dijo, “merde ! », y por si faltara menos, La muy “miss piggy” se fue con el muy San Franciscano.

La maniobra del tal “Jack”, was meticulously inserted into the CONFORAMA region of the “leisurely relaxed” hep cats who tend to bee “more worried about an improvised opportunity to revolt than to double–roll,” said a ROACH named Max.

ACROSS the street from La Maison de La Radio the strategy had been a Rollins for quite a while, particularly on Sundays, when el muy “Don MONOP” exige a todos sus clientes usar tarjetas de “Carte Blue”, siendo que los domingos, —así como NAIDEN camina en El Ey— en París nadie se echa un pedo el día en el que el Dios de Benjamín Netanyahu decidió tirar 24 horas de GÜEVA, siempre en Domingo, por supuesto.

La Novela no termina allí…
TELEVISA presenta:

R.I.P. fip, —as öüï— all Knew’er.

FIP: 1971 – 2019… they played back good music. Day were killed by a fucking little blue bird.

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