It’s High-noon and Maria Bartiromo celebrates BB King’s birthday.
The Thrill is gone… or is it!
Page 3, “the essays”:
… [B]ut FOist, we [the staff] switch it over to Aude “the Stylista” Andante for an update on::
Mexican Flat top on a transnational escalator
It’s the bottom of the 8th and Camilo Cienfuegos is at the mound and, whimsical sycophants are at the PLATEAU… for “the record”, Eye did tell y’all that there was a knife in that pouch… this here, motherfucker, is a, “picking–cotton–picker”, noted Uncle Albert. The inning begins after La bendita Préfecture de Police à Cité ( metro LINE 4ª TRANSformación) switched hitters after THE SEVENTH august INNING stretch and called on the “let them eat cake gods,” which of course manifest on this new venue with “contractors” at the door.
Here’s an instant replay of how that action went down at the bottom of the 11th Hour in Central CLICHY Thyme… and it’s either part of the PROTOCOL or little “Uncle Tom” in the making thinks that this most inconsequential beaner is just “one–in–a–Million”, just like Donald Trump. Hey, African guard, the TSA is hiring and you will have better opportunities to MAKE-UP the rules as you go, depending on the day of the week, motherfucker!
For the record:
Chingue a su madre Paco I. Taibo 2,
punto y aparte.
— 2 agosto, 2019… the staff [of this most inconsequential blog] SKIPS the wait, on account of the GREAT Frog Summertime BREAK, which is when the “Beautiful Ones” leave the “lilly pads” in town to head over to warmer ex–colonial LAnDs to get their “Bronceado” on, and we [Armando Segovia/Armando Serrano Prieto] headed over to Cité to get an update from BRONTIS à LA Préfecture de Cité, regarding our “Titre de Sejour” stay.