Friends… Deer, Lorde! It’s Six Degrees of unplugged at La Maison de Marjolaine

Previously on Kevin Bacon did French Toast with a side of Mika, and this is last Weak to They.

Ok, by the numbers:

1. Pretty woman.

Jack Nicholson, Susana Pubeda, even in his sendlitud Selenitud twilight remains a fast Caballito Galopante 🐴.

That’s self evident if youse a non reader of this most non-consequential blog, but just in case you think where the next Curve is going to, here’s a pretty horse… and in Paris, France, as Öüï speaks, mister Sara°Tú°$tras, Louis Pasteur just figured out how to tell a horse’s age just by looking at the Beast’s gum-Line.

Did you use JAVEL or Montsouris for that stop? The shirt gave Ewe, a Güey.

Heck, Eye reckons that… wait one, I’ve lost my RER B to Robinson train of thought.

I am an Antichrist and I am an Antidentite… any how, Javel is a cockroach enabling agent.

2. False advertisement

And, Susana Puveda, fuck Denis Soula, first and for—most, no Soula-ment une fois, but many, many, many times and here is, Y (why en Wall Street Anglais de Nice (06)).

Because, Deer 🦌, The Producers forgot the Butterfly 🦋 Effect and instead used a Flock Of Birds, flamingos de Camargue  🦩 of all places and Ewe knows that it is 🐂.

But that red 🚪hallway at the Thorne’s residence at least was little bit reminiscent of The Shining, sans the Twins and RedruM, off-course.

3. Let them eat cake, you French 🥖 Bastards. Thank you for the pastrami sandwiches… and all that Jazz.

But if Ewe join me on the Next post, it’s DENTISTS WITHOUT BORDERS… deer, Friends.

The Tulip 🌷 was here… Yippy Kay Yey, motherfuckers.

The good thing about this blog is that nobody comments and that's just fine with Mí.

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