Âł~. Issy-Sonia-Carneiro, oui, gĂŒi, we⊠you remind me of the first Mexican that i (Armando Segovia) met in France, not in Paris but way down south, any đŠ hoot Sonia Cabrona, in hindsight itâs true that my miserable eyes have learned and âdiscoveredâ many wonderful things in « La France » but like i told your doppelganger Ă Montpellier one generation ago :
Corral means -patio trasero ; and Sonia Carneiro, the reason why i was granted the Carte CompĂ©tences et Talents in L.A. (Dec. 2010) was because i promised not to review La France using Jorge Saldañaâs âFrench Civilisation ass-licking Styleâ (for context see Mel Brooks take on Robin Hood and his greeny tights) or, for those who know where the Pont Neufâs conditioning is at during the 2026 Spring/Summer Nuit Blanche, in the time-lapse style of the Associated Press advertorial đȘš sales đ department page đ.
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_ so, Whit[e] Sunday in mind, i knew back in 2008 that France was going to be gradually mexicanized, not turn into MĂ©xico, but sure-as-fuck âaromatisĂ©â like that disgusting Desperadosâą tequila/beer booze brand⊠and if you donât believe MĂ, ask any French crime news producer or any in the rotation of ministers of the INTERIOR at Court Saint-Ămilion, but KNOT-to-They because today is Whit[e] Monday and Jesusâ real đïž dad (not his legal đš oneđȘ) is on an extended-pont fĂ©riĂ© with all of the gang of derelicts and bums that spread the âgood newsâ to unrepentant goy-haters in Judea, GalilĂ©e, and to the motherfuckers clochards near la Samaritaine.
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Over at the anti-Gentile House of the Shrimp-eating PIGS from Israel, itâs King David never knew what he missed, âor did he?
Shalom, motherfucker, đ· oink đ oink and all that Jazz.
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