On the menu: A hamburger with a donut for a bun… 👌You Woman’s Rights in Paris.

Previously on, Alejandro González Iñárritu can lick on my Cat Soup Paletas ✊🏼

Samuel Cook’s Drive-Inn

Across the border, El Doctor Simi awaits a new shipment of The Morning After … Pill☢️… reality sets in and “abortion” is a word that is relegated back to the dark ages and Öüï shall KNOT speak of it.

Musical guest: A cover of Kate’s Bush.

… Congratulations to the 45th President of The United States of America for his victory today, your cult just got stronger. But you know what, Oli and some other skinny bastard (at The Johnny Hallyday Plaza) are going to perform more introspective shows, apparently they became French Paratroopers in Bulgaria, and then, after that after party— you are going down, Donald Trump.

 

Dear, Beto O’Rourke… Ay-tú! Reserve{s} the Right for a Pardon.

You, Sir, of all Chucos Postizos knows that … hold for ✊🏼, vato.

Frenchie: A hamburger with a donut for a bun? There really is no God here… (What’s next, ketchup on a sucker?)

— And, Willie Geist… Beto is what Emmanuel is to Congressman Scarborough, so be it. Ted is Le Pen… by the way is that French Blue you’re wearing? It’s fashion week in PARIS, so your shoes better be in tone.

Ohhh, Donna… please relay to Beto that if he is going to go with sneakers to not make the mistake of that Ross guy on the msnbc’s, you have to wear SOXs with BASKETS, otherwhise your feet are going to get TOE jams and they will smell like cheese.

Mayra, in case the good people in PARIS missed the flip.
https ://www .texastribune .org /2022/06/14 /texas-special-election-tx-34-mayra-flores-dan-sanchez/
that’s only TEN (guey) Theys away, ese…
José Díaz Balart, would say 21³ more than THE UVALDE “incident”.

³~. Enter AS promised

{Yesterday}

Jack Jordan²: I just ran over a man and two little girls… so that would total 63 g or .74 oz.

²~. According to El Chapo’s capturer and his then main-Squeeze
Kate del Castillo, “we all lose 21¹ grams… at the exact moment of our death”.

{knot}

¹~. 19 children + 2 adults = 21 (man)

{not}

¹~. Salvador the gunman (one little girl)

{and}

¹~.The broken-hearted UNDERPAID teacher’s husband who perished Theys later (one little girl)

… And Donna Perino, Cheech is ready for you, Chong is out of the room, and have i got some CHEESE for you—You bring the “Jesus Juice”.

Y tu mamá también, set in Memphis

Continued from page 33 ∴

Ibid. c.2017. But with a different name: Olympiades

Mary and Paul’s relationship was over a long time ago. The sad thing was that they were both together because both of them were sick… [one had a troubled heart and the other had this consuming loneliness, or something like that].

Guillermo Arriaga
21 Grams
[paraphrased summary]

Please stand-by for context… or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. Long story short, the troubled heart got fixed with Money and the consuming loneliness was actually pretty fucking awesome, until the Father of The Bride section of the wedding scene. That part of the play was by-invitation only and that is where i heard the Last Song that i was expecting to hear on the skirts of the Alpes Maritimes overlooking Nice, y sí, it was TRACK 13 for the soundtrack of, “Y Tu Mamá También”, Mateo García; aunque usted—no lo crea.

Track 13 “The Wedding Song” 🧶 345FE29F-4DE1-4C72-B1CB-E50DED47988A 🎶 If you are a non-reader of this blog you might have missed the beat that i kept for a brief while in the form of my weekend mornings interludes with Perrine, Lindsey and Ashley (from Ashley’s World… or something like that) and i do declare that among the unsolicited affection dispersed in a whole bunch of arcs and twists, and weather reports on that section of the blog, them weekend intermezzos are among my favorites in this rag that i call a blog.

Sin embargo, muchachas, and to continue with the above written cutline ⤴️, tactical challenges and logistical disturbances have (as expected) obliterated my defenses, and so for that matter don’t–keep–on ignoring the fact that the triangulation behind the Technicolor block was not about you. 

The hypothenuse of them coordinates will always and forever be* about establishing a key character in my ten-year permanence in France. And it is nothing personal.

* or for as long as there is a Fifth French Republic.

It is not, i repeat, it is not about judging the character in the scene, as Alejandro Cuarón (or is it Alfonso González?) stated on chapter 7 of The Faber Book of Mexican Cinema. It is not, i re-type, it-is-not-personal. And, as Mr. Iñárritu stated in that particular section of the book, and i am paraphrasing here, ‘you have to read from whose point of the script the context is coming from‘, and in this particular case the context is coming from Bruno, the supervisor of Stephanie Menou at one of the dépôt sections of the Paris Prefecture, and that is because that public fonctionnaire received an e-mail from a former partner of this blog, a medical doctor who scolded (Bruno) the government employee for telling me, at the time when he removed my first 3-year residence permit card from my hand and then proceeded to tell me that “i had no rights in France.” There is more context to that incident, but you have to look it up since that particular page has turned.

And that, my sweet Saturday/Sunday morning car-tunes is the reason why BFM’er TV’s transmission hub is in the picture, because i used to live on the other end of the street named after that Rebel-rouser at The Paris Commune, but for some reason i can’t remember the compete name of Jeannine-Elaine-Garreau.

Right now, however, i have to do like las ruedas–que rápido ​ruedan, and catch Metro line 3 to Levallois; where this whole homeless experience began… ah, the memories, “it’s like starting over” again Madam Hidalgo, because four years ago today, American pundits were begging the French electorate not to elect Marine Le Pen, and lo and behold, isn’t that fear what Nancy (FR) was all about?

— Jump to page 2:22

O.K., but Heilemann must share the Weed, part ii

Thing 5… is gone in Sixty Seconds, but that’s only because “Cocaine is a hell of a drug”.

Meanwhile, as the AXIOS peoples discover that the “Grillin’–and–Chillin'” agricultores don’t really give a pretty pink fat baby’s ass about Russia when their RIGHT TO FIX software ‘firmware’ arrives from the same side of the UKRAINE that knock-DA–fuck out of big Ol’ Jet Airliners in midair.

Don't get Mí Wrong

The nightmate scenario,” according to önë Jäsön Kœbler, from the motherboard of all them VICE’s who just laid–off all the former interns,  motherfuckingJohn Deere could REM•OTELY shut down a tractor,” and the stupid-ass farmer who trusted an “American” company is Shit-Out-of-Luck, this; as a Mitt motherfucking Romney extended family member (Mr. Deere is a practicing Church of Latter Day Saints non–Coffee drinking oligarch) is fucking with the ‘Murican food supply destined for the Chinese, because WE THE Sheeple ARE only allowed to eat Artificially Grown agriculture, courtesy of Monsanto (Herr Bayer/NYSE MON $123 @ Closing Time). And YES, John Deere is a Tax-Excempt Person.

And yes, The Department of Agricultores is also a May baby, —Baby! Just like Hô–Chi–Minh (May 19, 1890) who made of Donald Trump a Son-of-a-Bitch:

https:// RAWSTORY
Donald Trump is obsessed with
The Maverick
because Trump wishes that he could amount to at least one of the 21 Grams that evaporated from one of the late Senator’s lingering farts.

https://www.rawstory.com/2019/03/trumps-obsessed-john-mccain-wants-presidential-historian/amp/

6. Need we mention water. Plenty of potable water. Especially when the pollen has illegally entered the Halls of “the” MSNBC’s.