Packaged Nationalism in Alberta’s Church. It’s not Silverton, Colorado, but it deserves its own South Park knockoff. Indeed.
Deer, Élise Jordan… are you trying to get a rise out of Mí? Stop it! It’s unbecoming for a Mississippi Queen. Anyhow, there’s a new trend in Paris, it seems that Évry body wants to be a fucking comedian, and so the Paris TOURISM BOARD subsidized comedy stores and clubs, and comedy joints all around it’s its pretty little sacrosanct arrondissements.
At the movies, it’s The Story of Macaron, before the call for Démission.
Critics in Spain are calling The Story of Macaron, “¡la mascarada más descarada, joder!”
Across The Atlantic, the last word on last week’s UFO sightings is that Justice Day O’Connor wast last seen galloping near Tornillo, Texas, on her way to Marfa, when a Polar bear caught the slow horse that Colin Jost delivered to the Supreme Justice on the Lorde Lorne Comedy Show.
All. Along The Watch, Torre… but first, put that COP-out ⛽ in Dubaï on a slow Arabian jamelgo.
Quick programming note, there is a reason Israel’s U.S.-made missiles are shaped like a phallus, mister Scarborough, it’s because on impact, the bang is fucking at a different level. Issy, France, it’s non-consensual. There’s your Florida-famous, “but for.”
Four elementary Palestinian children are playing beach fútbol in the land of the 3 Faiths, hilarity ensues when an Israeli F-16 hones a missile on the child that is about to score a goal.
When asked, the Israeli fighter-pilot justified his shot because Israel don’t need another, MESSi.
And the way she looked!
Was way beyond the Ozark bikini 👙 shore.
And… Eye tells Ewe, Watt, —Torre… little Ol’i ain’t done with The Thrill A in Manila. Up next, in search of Homer’s doughnut. Next stop, the first Krispy Cream in France, where Governor Chris Christy is deep-snoring inside his tent on the customer line outside the new pastry in town store.