Deer, Yasmin V… you’re not fooling anybody with that “Eye’m Batman on the 3rd shift,” jazz.

And in Washington, the Health Secretary has prohibited  the FDA and the CDC from approving and/or signing any food and health policies into effect on account that GOYA FOODS and, the celebrated LABORATORIOS CAMACHO (en la calle Stanton de El Paso, Texas) will have supreme authority to deliver America “the goods”.

Musical Guest, “Appetite for Destrucción” lip–synching their number 9-track: Now Eye Gets Up Around Whenever… Indeed, Mars Mom, in•deed—Zeppelin goes here.

And Claire McAss, please don’t wait for The Band’s cover of “November Rain” on account that Victoria’s Secret has buried that pompous anthem along with Jefferey Epstein… or the guy who played him on a New York holding tank; bee–Cause, öüï left a Sticky Note®️stating that the ENTIRE staff at QAnon knows that Jefferey Epstein is not dead, and that the Trump’s personal government–appointed lawyer is going to figure out how to extract the socialite femina that used Victoria’s Secret brand to lure chicas to Prince Andrew’s cabaña at Epstein’s Evil Island [on-the-record] fuck den. IT’S TWUE!!!

Hoy no hubo jazz, Batman… it turned out that on their way to the Parisian style pagoda, Claire and her patient made a pit-stop in Kansas City, Moore specifically,  at a joint where Claire chopped her splits, it was called… Basie’s Seven, or some kind of Heaven, like that. _–•!•–_ The thing is, for those of you Knot reading the scroll, this is where Ashley Parker’s waitress role comes into Play.

After the break, a young Senator Claire MacCaskill plays the role of a shrink with a knack for hot—steamy—yoga positions and then proceeds to fornicate with Mr. Morningstar… at her OZARKS fuck den, yeah, Buddy.