Of yardbirds, park people and, after all is said and done, “we’ll bury ’em in the mix³”.
… and other assorted Nazis : I don’t know why girl—Eye don’t know Y, i cain’t git’ enough of your congas baby.
Eye can’t get enough of your love.
Any 🦉 hoot someone at fip anda o, ‘bien pacheco’ o, bien anastasiado! Truth be told, Eye does not select the catalogue of events but Öüí can certainly get bien arreglados with Chalino Sánchez en el ⛴ batobus ; and reina 🧜♀️, if Ewe knows who Cornelio is, then you know Puteaux.
Take my sushi, please!
Leave it to the evil conglomerate at La Maison de La Radio (al cuadrado) to try to erase FICTION by changing the name of the disk jocks at fip from the historically accurate “siren” to the conveniently appropriate “fippette”, well, in honor of the trilateral commission, the CFR, and off~course the BOHEMIAN 🦉 GROOVE golf ⛳ course in Monte Rio, California, here it is : Today Is Your Birthday and as a gift the Very French got you something straight out of Dodgeball and BASEketball called “footgolf”… Eye swears that Öüï is knot, is KNOT making MAINE up.
It’s a Dutch import from the nether-regions of the dam.