[And Armando Álvarez responds]
So… now you fuckers are “appropriating” my lizards heatwaves, eh? … what’s next, my Tunas de tunis?
— What is, “if it ain’t got that betaCYANin!”
[And Gael García Bernal goes]
— Motherfucker, you stain deeper than the Dipper Shade of Soul. What are you, ¿a Cancer curing cactus?
Any güey, when at Saint–Merri, o mismo en San José de Las Panochas de Las Moras*:
La Moral* aquí y en Cartagena es un Árbol que produce moras, para que Morena-Francia tenga fuerzas para seguir con la farsa de don MacUSpanO
reprenez des forces avant d’aller plus loin rumbo a la ASS–em-blée de la rue de los Ve-re-rie-reros del 75004.
Deer, professor Isaacson, it is futile to cover that cup, them flyboys are all over IT.
Got pills? Cousin Joe Gknows what [the staff] is “typing” Dr. Walter, about.
!Señorahhhhh!!!!
Tired of them’Fly–on–the–Wall reporters?
LABORATORIOS CAMACHO ; in partnership with oscar de la hoya boxing and Bernardo gómez productions presents, a Quentin Tarantino story, because that is all that the French recognize as an El Paso “original”… kill bill, my A$$.
The Bill Stays! And you are welcome Gael and Siren!… and for the record fuck the [poor] souls who’ve never tasted a buttery LoBster, because that is an essential part of hitting:
Rock [LoBster] Bottom, and she likes IT ; she like[s] to hit Rock [botton] LoBster. That Lady, Liberty ; eye tell ewe.