Previously on, Fo’:
Visa para locos… “con la intención de obtener mayores conocimientos en su formación turística.”
Note to self: I will never obtain Rebecca from Quebec, and Eye is not even allowed within 3000 miles from the biblioteca de la U.A.C.J. turning, by the way 50 in, https://gaceta.uacj.mx/countdown ,with that in mind, got huitlacoche?
https ://i0 .wp .com /asegovia3 .com /wp-content /uploads /2016/06 /ahora_mismo_punto_com_punto_mx. jpg? ssl=1
page 84… reformulation: Homer was such a bad poet, he could not possibly have existed.
Theiss, ibid on the Illiad.
And, Avi Velshi, it occurred to Mí that this corn debacle, Eye reckons from my recon post—that is the same thing but in a different angle of that whole 13-year old who has to worry about Algebra and baby formula for her little bastard child. The treaty allows for the ‘safe Ing’n en astronomía’ clause, whereas the U.S. allows for wild huitlacoche on Évry tortilla.
P.S.: our hearts and minds are with the cocksuckers 🇨🇦 who have mined the fuck out of la panamericana 🔥
¡M🌽§§🌽§§🌽¶¶🌽!
What has 4 eyes, 4 eses, 2 pies, and no incest laws… l’Ancienne Régime.
Mañana en La Hora Nacional:
https ://diario .mx /nacional /piden-a-amlo-intervenir-por-mexicano-desaparecido-en-canada
To celebrate the 50th Anniversary of the anti-BRUTEP chapter of la UACJ en Samalayuca, CHAMIZAL productions en Clandestinidad con Arturo RIPstein, y Flautas “El Canario” presentán:
GRUPO PESADO, telonero, Mozart.
People who know, know… that that there corncob is a tortilla en potencia.
Back to page 181, ¶ 3 of Marie-Ange Schiltz’
The imposing Felix crosses Les Halles from north to south. I cross from south to north. The meeting is inevitable. Cheerful, he leaves to join his bouliste friends in the Tuileries. He invites me to come and play with them whenever I like. He’s well, very well, it seems. Félix is perhaps the only person among those I’ve met living on the streets who has repeatedly had the opportunity to get out with a job [and skills], and has always returned to the streets. Félix can’t stand any constraints, especially not the feeling of being fenced in*. When he lands a job in the outdoors, in the South of France, near his daughter’s home, I think I’ll never see him again. An error of judgement, he couldn’t stand it, he let go of everything. Provençal pétanque was powerless to hold him back. Today, he’s in a hurry and I won’t know any more. One day, I’ll take a trip to the Tuileries. I know where to find the boulistes.