“Whatch the way Eye Navigates »


Las fuentes de doña Vilma

Las fuentes de doña Vilma, Internal Affaire.:.DBB45F66-5442-40FC-B729-00B7D66A8328

Oh, hey Hallie Jackson, say hello to Phil Griffin and, here’s an “Almost Live” text that won’t make your frequency on account that it was not a “terrorist’s” attack; do say hello to the Welk.

Fucking, Canucks

Eye did tell y’all that there was a Motherfucking KNIFE in that Lot:

Internal affairs

Internal affaire… let’s play Hardball, dear former Senator Claire McCaskell à Saint Louis, Misery; listen here, we [the staff] don’t choose the deck, nor the cards, not even the rhythm, öüï just ping-pong the news back to you, —ma’am, just the (tip) of the facts.

day 3, Month 10, Year 2019 C.E.
TimeStamp 14hrs CET

Context is developing

Context is developing on the Way to Le Tribunal de Clichy, only, On The View.

Transmission cut. We repeat, transmission cut.

Earlier in the day:

Forward Observation Report from Centerfield and the description of the Bowi™️; On The View, with Chelsea Maddow’s blow-out Special; Oh, The Thyming, Matthew Mac Con Augustus Jey*, which brings U.S. to that Donnie Deutsch “dead president” brand of performance that leaves Climate Change deniers feeling “good” about their dead presidents monthly-payment “BeeJeeKohls“.

 Bank books courtesy of

Bank books courtesy of: Crédit Lyonnais 1904 – 1911. Now, when the Ancien Regime slapped a couple of tin stick-ons on a Grand Livre (aprox. dead weight: 15 kgs. one–Each) they were not thinking of Smoke and Mirrors, for the record, the Bowi™️ probably makes the weight at 3 lbs. (American, not Imperial) and can probably store a couple og Giga Cubic Tons of the dried calligraphy in them LOGS there; and Vladimir Putin has copies of each and every motherfunking bit in his “Superb” server, named after Matthew McConaughey*

Metadata and Metaphysical dimensiones of the Obsi™️ follow, but FOist, the Bill on el adorable clima de Finlandia…

Ya llegó Nikki Lauda

Ya llegó Nikki Lauda.:.88178C4C-6835-4E42-831A-F6E8B0C6BE0F •|• Y su MXT Mastretta de Limón, de que Color lo va a querer, you “lazy, feckless, flatulent oaf,” period


… and in Washington, trascendió que los llamados “Gnats” fly in clouds…. GOOOOOOOO, Dodgers!

… con tu permiso, mabm:

… ma Pétroleuse is about to pop.

This is an intermission,
TimeStamp: 21h20 in Central Europe Time.


Did Ewe know that it was the French who went ahead and invented General George S. Patton?

These boots were made for ridin’…

The Eleventh Hour—after sundown in CET.

It’s another no–News day… stayed tuned for All Quiet on The West Wing

… but first here’s Mike Barnicle with the Old Farmer’s Almanac:

An anonymous source at wether central reveals in an Op–Ed column of a New York’s newspaper that there are ONLY 16 days left in the 2018  calendar to enjoy the Ozarks… The  Fall is coming.

TimeStamp: 12h43 in Central Europe Time

Do not try to adjust your settings. •-_!_-• How many subliminal messages can Ewe spot, besides Rudy “the red nose” Lawyer… sorry about that… besides, RUDOLPH “the red nose” Raindeer on Felon’s… on Fallon’s desk?

Later Tonite at 11 o’Clock

You’ve heard about the Children of The Sun, The Children of The Corn… but have Ewe heard of Los Children of Pepper? Flip it over to channel Three (the blue channel) to find out all about em’… Sir Paul and the shimmy felon dancers, guest star. Don’t miss a beat lest you want the staff to call ewe a Death Uber* for cutie.
*… or a “cab” if it suits Ewe’all best.

TimeStamp: Station2Station and “Wild is The Wind” at 16 hundred Pennsylvania Ave      hours… in Central Siren Time.

Later on Channel Three… the Blue Channel: ¡una serie bien Cabrona!


Ladies in Gemeni: hoy no hubo noticias

… please continue to ignore this most inconsequential blog.

Next on the Shifters… The news cycle is at an all time low, today there were no news. The most starteling thing on the spectrum is realizing that there are only 17 days of Summer… the Fall is near.

13 hundred hours in Central Europe Time

… o como dicen Los Amigos de México en Francia…
86 días para la primera
de las Peregrinaciones Guadalupanas
del Sexenio


The last Jazz session of the month of August follows…

We [the staff] never thought that we’d make it this far.

It’s 19 hundred hours
over the Waves at
La Seine…
Jazz Hour, follows.

Hey, wadda’ya know, The Sirens skipped town… y las muy condenadas, como d’habitud no invitaron las muy canijas. En fin, la tropa de las colas de pez se lanzaron a un lugar que se llama Nantes; casí esquina con Pornic, o Pornichet—o algo así.

The few cats that we [the staff] know from that region, around Nantes, are like the few people that we met from Alabama —es decir— they always tell every new acquaintance that they are from LA… which the French call Louisiana.


Anygüey, it appears that the French are back from vacation because over at Nantes, the protests are in FULL SWING, and no, “little darling” it’s not the Gypsy Swing, oh—no-no-no—no—NO!… let’s just say that it’s the same assholes that practice social upheavels as a Sport with the chant of Sol–sol—sol—SOLIDARITE, o algo así… MUSICA NUDA—indeed, Siren, indeed.

So, Nantes, the few gents that we’ve mingled with for some reason they all told us [the staff] that they were from Brittany, and yes, from a kick–ass town with a Raider’s and Pirate’s documented log like St. Malo. Not to rag on Nantes, but… if God had forsaken me and made a Place like Alabama (any spot on that map) i would probably say that I Hailed from Louisiana, —most definitely— New Orleans.


Al parecer, los rijosos del Sol–sol—sol—SOLIDARITE, o algo así, ya fueron desalojados, apaciguados, o simplemente se retiraron a hacer su Revolución Empaquetada a otro sector del Festival Rendez–vous de l’Erdre à Nantes… o algo así. Anygüey, BLUES MUSIC en esa escena va a seguir con “Hear me Holler N Moan”… or something along that GAME.

TimeStamp: 20h00 in Central Europe Time.

Why did you do it?…

Dear, Sirens… context follows, eh.

Higher math: 2 bolas, mas dos Bolas… siguen siendo dos… provided that none of the studs shot a nut off, if one of them did, then in that case the nut count is Three, but the count remains at Two… Viva ZZ Top!

ISSY, it’s always something
at The Top of the 17 hundred hours
in Central Siren Den

Anygüey, doña Charlotte, o mismo —doña Jane:

Nice concept from the nEwes den at fip central station to mask musik on the hourly news track, quite the visual, it reminds me of a recent series that we [the staff] follow, it’s called “Get Shorty” and yes, it’s based on the book that Travolta personified in two sequels.

Here’s the thing, Siren, if Eye, like the Original Paul, should not ever notice, we [the staff] repeat, not ever « notice that the Light had Changed », and make the nEwes, please play a motherfucking Max Roach beat… let us have our CAKE and EAT IT TOO!

TimeStamp: 18h36 in Central Frank Sinatra Time.

Kasie follows… do it again.

… o como dicen los “rosbif’s”, doña Chole

Al regresar:

Los Hilos de Sasha
La Jornada de La Soledad

but first, here’s another rendition of a series that we [the staff] like to call, —Your park is My Gallery, eh!

Playin’ hookie à La Villette… water fountain courtesy of un tal Philippe Abel.

Jazz fragments are on the back-burner and so is another installment of the fragmentation of Soledad Loaeza’s take on the presidential transition that is flying on Auto–pilot right now and floating through some Mambo Clouds in Central Europe Time…

the 20minute hitters
before el Crepusculo de las Siete
al otro lado de La Défense.