In France Info, the yellow banner network for the Frogs, the former mayor of Big Bend, Indiana, is all the rage in their Morning Edition. En La Jornada de doña Saade, the French have done it again, la Millión Maison just auctioned another lot of RELICS from them fucken Mexicans earliest civilizations for the low-low £OW price of: DIME a Dozen; a private citizen asked the Mexican Official in charge about the details of the artifacts, but the HIJO DE pUTAH from the Mexican Cultural Institute could only relay that D.A.T. particular information was “in reserve” (codex for S.E.A.L.ed) for five years; just enough time, Ms. Hauc, for ayahuasca fans to forget the president of Mexico’s NAME, in other words José Díaz– Balart: AMY K. did nothing wrong, the French on the other hand, are sketchy as fuck at The Million Dollar Teather, and if you’ve been to El Ey, you’ll understand the folklore.
DIRTY RED for fip Sirens who don’t follow u.s., is in the C.H.A.M.B.E.R.
But FOist, here’s a First Look at the peacocks:
Deer, Ayhem Moelhydin, step away from the Witt—Step Away from the Witt, and release the Jazz!
Over at the Hollywood Hills, “Peas, —peas sell— but Who’s Buying?”
Öüï now return to our Special Edition of:
« You do know who I am? »
and Vladimir Putin goes:
My bitch, Donald, my–mother–Russia bitch.
To what Donald John Trump,
—the Third of 45,
who is impeached by the lower–Arm of the Hill— replied:
C’est Si Bon, and Franklin —“my dear”— don’t give a damn if we (the United States) can’t hold on to Chuck Todd’s Republic.