Let’s go Papi Chulo… Let’s look for La Tina in Rome, because R o m a, Roma es Amor. But first, motherfucker, Eye is about to show MEDIAPART and its little “paperboy”; ROLLING STONE (france), Denis Roulleau; and Mr. José Lopes³ at the Direction du bâtiment et de la sécurité at le Service de la sécurité of the Georges Pompidou Centre, “the fleeting, unidentified voices proclaiming [that] “I‘ve been mad for fucking years’ and [that] “there is no dark side of the moon … in fact,” (V&A Publishing 2017, pg.217) allow Mí, gentlemen, to borrow from WATERS “interspread … spoken-word segments” and create for that GainsBourg fellow at the Bpi’s 2nd level “an athmospheric SUB-PLOT », to “The hidden face of the PRISM.”
³~. Lusitano perhaps, but that signe diacritique on the PEPE part of his first name makes him soupçonneusement spic.
The oldest cliche in Da’book… some might say, is that all Rhodes lead to fascism, or something like that, so to clear the burrata* from Pachanga³ (dijo la changa) we switch, IT!, over to Daniela Piedra-Brava en Viña del Mar to ask her if what Benny Blanco from the Bronx is preaching rings as Trou 🕳️… as a pretentious bell from a French church (in Avignon)… Alésia is standing-by with Alicia (not that one).
In local news:
All discord, no Excuses and most definitely no contemporaneous video-chat leprechauns.