French bashin’ iii — Jugüemos al Béis, güey

That’s Hardball if you play Cricket en Inglés, which is the sport of Grillos en Espagnol. C’est a dire Le Roi du Spotrs.


Dear, Rachel Maddow, do you know what the good thing about this B.l.og. is?

That neither you, Madam, nor Mr. Manuel Valls will ever read it.

VOX de España
Les Echos del Generalissimo Franco

… wait for it, Chrissy Haynes, wait.

These people had SEX with their parents”:324E5292-6315-4DFA-8E12-47AABFE0CD66 —|— Sex with their papás and their mamás. •|• The following is a Copy/Pasta for Jared Kushner: Los medios galos son de hecho los que más se hacen eco de la noticia y resaltan que Ciudadanos, el partido que apoya a Manuel Valls y que quiere aliarse con En Marche, forma parte de la colaciónand Jared, Your BeauPapá had sex with your W.I.F.E..

In Rachel Maddow news, there’s something about Rachel’s hair, —must be the Super Moon.

TimeStamp: 02.43 in Central NATO Times

So… about that V.I.S.A:052A50F0-DA32-4BEE-8F47-BFA49624943E •!• Why exactly is it that Brontis wants me to voluntarily WALK INTO A POLICE STATION, before France, the country —not the singer— decides what it is that it will do with my Dossier à la préfecture de Cité; room 1511. Are you guys at Dêpot turning Japanese? Or, (motherfuckers) is this part of The Métamorphose of the (motherfucking) Process?

Today in History, a few hours ago, but in 1804 Napoléon “dale por su” Buenaparte, promulgó el llamado C.I.V.I.L. CODE (motherfuckers)… oh, the waste of paper.

Did you know that it was a very French devil, who went ahead and invented “the political pacts”; cosas del C.h.a.m.u.c.o., vía La BBC, El WaPo, and the lovely Amy Goodman; what a beautiful nom, Bonhomme:

C–Span 101. Pop quiz: We are ALL “pelusas”… elaborate

So, Cousin Joe, before we switch it over to the C–Span’s, I, Armando Segovia, also known by The Préfecture de Police à Cité (75004) by the Mexican Nomenclature of ARMANDO SERRANO-PRIETO, would like to put a little *ASTErisk on your comment about last night’s “Big Meal” before doing the Shut–Eye, which was followed by that dumb country lawyer “told You so” momentary stare of yours. Cousin Joe, PLEASE BE ADVISED, that the very “special” delivery that was sacrificed on the way to our little den at the Forum’s Underground took at least 24 hours to sucummb to whatever was injected into his or hers (not sure what the gender of the little baby rat was… I, Armando Segovia, only took care of the funeral arrangements, “that is to say, EWE know,” that I only placed the little dead motherfuking mouse inside of a decent casket (a Pringles™️ tube) before that specimen went into the McDo Bye–bye bin.

Out of respect to the little animal, no picture-registering was allowed at the scene del Siniestro… but Boy–oh_BO¥, did you know that it was the Very French, who went ahead and installed surveillance at every entrance to The Kids in The Hall, y’all.

Kool–EROS sí.
Cobardes no los creía, culeros.

P.S. about the Danglin’ Participle in this REALITY journalism ACT:
Picture this, the syringe was still stuck to one of it’s little pink paws; a paw that was probably bigger than both of Donald Trump’s tiny hands.

Now, about that “Pelusa®️™️©️” ensayo:

Dear, “GlasiRat’s” y “La Machy”… if those are your REAL usernames, Eye disagree with both of you, o como dicen los muy francece–ce–ces—ese en Vera(puta)Cruz: los dos están pendejos y malos del Yo-Yo.

And here’s exhibit ONE:

EyE ObJect:_f8db089a-b0fe-4dfb-a3df-9c1acbcc7389
•-_!_-• Por ejemplo, Raquelito:
DONNIE Deutsch might be a “Pelusa de La Quinta, en Nueva Yo’l”, pero Donnie no es pelusa de Quinta.

I.  What a PELUSA, is not.

By Armando Segovia de los Serrano y Prieto (SDF—Global) — Mexican Jazzglish, con trocitos de Francés, salpicadas de Portugués, y por supuesto,  Sirens, Castellano.


Tacos de Noruega7643715c-8267-4d74-af2e-9b18e188d4a5


Los dueños de la Hacienda Miranda
bien pudieron seguir considerando
a Tomás Arroyo otra simple pelusa insurrecta desde sus cómodas asociaciones de Ley en Francia,
pero El General Arroyo no era ninguna pelusa.
p 34 Gringo Viejo…

Exhibit B:

[At this moment —that is to say, Ewe know, Tune–in— to hear a “Dumb Country lawyer” in the voice of Joe Scarbourough shouting Eye—SAY, Eye–Say Eye du “Ob_Ject'”, Monsieur Le President of the Court!].

Then Joe looks up and sees Mr. Sanford without his Son:9b89a8fa-5a47-429d-9085-8e47902ea911


Wicked and kicking:t9b24e7e9-9c33-4a11-9601-0782d6d9262d

Docket 2400 Fourteenth Street
Washingtoh, D.C.; sin código.

La mirada de Harriet  Winslow, [triunfolento para los del Laboratorio en dónde ella  “laburaba », según un boludo en la portería del equipo de Los Miranda] encontró la de Tomás  Arroyo cuando el general entró  MARCANDO al salón de baile (Versailles de Chihahuita) con un fuete en la mano.


La educadora gringa reúne los prejuicios presentes en  individuos elevados en el llamado mundo civilizado en dónde los sistemas educativos curtén a los pupilos para actuar ante equís situación de acuerdo a las costumbres but most important, the Way of Life structured by the triunfoLentos that built R O M A in different epochs, not in ONE MOTHERFUCKING DAY.

Pass Interference and Stolen Base at the BOTTOM of the First Down of the midnight hour in Central NATO Times; en Nueva Yol’l son las Seis de La Tarde, and Heidi, please relay to the Purple Pundit that you have been authorized to wear The Color Purple whenever you want. Furthermore, for the forepage, if challenged by Oprah, or Mrs. Goldberg about the wearing of that garb, tell them that “Field Marshal Carlin” signed–off on this general order in accordance to the guidelines and protocols of AR 670–1 change 00110011.


PS. please relay to the elements who took the command decision to light up all the pretty little Doll Houses in pretty pastel hues that the subliminal shots at “PUTUS 45” look Fucking Awesome. I will be sending an invoice for “concept consulting & ideas” shortly, in the mean time, while Donald Trump remains grounding air transportation for all kind of “pelusas,” at all kinds of airports (civilian or otherwise) do keep your squelch in position “On”.

Ale! Marianne… Live forever? Definitely Maybe it’s 6 o’Clock

“Like a workhorse caught in a Stable”… o un periodista en un Oasis, o mismo en un baño Turco.

Oh, hey Billy G, you must have met Caroline… but have you met Marianne? Ah!!! Let me tell ya’ Man, La Grange ain’t got Jack on them set of Legs.

A Lasting Warning, and Trump’s bandoleón–wide web of LIES en Argentina FOLLOWS. Stick around.

Yo soy Armando Segovia y la edición en Ah–prietos, starts, Right Now after the 20 minute hash-mark.

Please Stand–by for Signal Identification:

Bienvenida morena… faltan 2 días, 3 horas y Cero minutos para el 1 de diciembre a las 9 de la mañana, Tiempo del Centro, –el centro de México— no el Centro de ustedes, o el de los López–Obradoristas. En París son las 13 horas.

Frequency hop:
The Following must be read with a Sonny de Valdés announcer voice in the key of Ángel Fernández.

Ladies in Gemeni, live from the Faber & Faber limited arena at The Sands in Les Halles on The güey to the Forum.

SIRIUS EDITIONS and Titan Books,
in collaboration with Ciné Vintage
and Golden Canelo Boy and Longhorn Press presents:

KATANA vS. Harley Davidson… The Brawl for A Few Dollars More.

12–rounds of main–Streaming horror Brand Snatching in the middle of a Freejack recall of Yellow Colored Autobots®️ and freelance automatons and androids across the TONKA and Concept Artists UNIVERSES–es–es, ese, as the Very French use of a yellow-colored “attention getting” glove compartment emergency habit, —or boring garment— as their “trapo de guerra” en la contienda por puto litro de gasolina continua en el melodrama de la Historia del primer quinquenato de Jupiter.

TimeStamp: almost Veinte para Las Tres in Central NATO Time… Eye Want—Your… yes Sirens, you’ve guessed it: Eye Want Your SEX.

BREAKING THE NEWS: HEY MR. MUSIC… this is SOME SERIOUS SHIT, The “mighty dread” and Reggae Music is now un Patrimonio de La Humanidad… and Ewe know what, without the Ganja none of it would have happened, “Yeah Mon”… Jamaica, Rocks… steady—nenah.

16.00 hours in Central NATO Time

Allez! Marianna, thanks for the ale… Jazz Central follows. This message will self–destroy following the execution of  Sirius Error 16, which is code for “Trial” period is Over… Kafka follows… KAF•TA,  not Kafka, —follows. It’s Lebanese night… where’s the Moon at?

TimeStamp: 19 hundred hours in Central NATO TIMES.

Vamo’ Marianna, picha de nuez… Eye know You Love Me, at 19:03 on Central Siren Den, it’s Live, but that frame there is Not, we [the staff] repeat it Is Not The Bossa Nova, You just don’t know it yet.

Hey good looking…may Eye have this dance?

TimeStamp: Calexico en francés… 17h27 in Central Siren Time.

Hey… context follows, but given Steve Bannon’s expeditionary dreams, EWE’all might get the wrong idea of this most inconsequential post, eh…

Clint Eastwood follows… and he’s “got sunshine in a bag,” yeah—buddy, the Future is, is, is…

In plain sight and in Black and White

Fat Fuck is coming to town…  Sources say that Monsieur Jean Marie Le Pen has already booked a suite for this  propagandist at the Régina.

The beast arrival sources:

* Willie Nelson.

What a day for a day dream, custom made for a Grease Lightning Hot Rod!

Bonjour, aujourd’hui il est mercredi 18 avril 2018
… et aujourd’hui je vais vous mordre tes lèvres-en pensant à toi
Dans un Hot Rod à deux roues, eh!

This is a jale in progress…

TimeStamp: 13 hundred hours in Central NATO Time…

Anyguëy, the staff is French illiterate [for now, because it’s part of the original Six-year engagement] and that’s alright because Bing [especially under the rain] is a friend and besides, the God Damned Blues just don’t have the same ring in a language that does not like to pronounce the letter “S” como en el caso de Pari…S, –ewe know what I mean?

Conventionality Belongs to Yesterday

Indélébile… like grease, or red wine on a pretty little white tablecloth. }-—–~~~\*> Snapshot by the Ghost of armando guajardo… 1978, but in 2018—CopyLeft!

En fin, Sirens
a funny thing happend on the way to the Forum
when a big slap in the flashback detonated a storm of rambling memories that knocked us [the staff] back to the year when Mario Alberto Kempes shared screen time with the Star Wars universe and a little musical screenplay where Frankie Valli, was, as “they” say now a days: The Shit!

Bueno, lo más seguro es de que Gane quién Gane la puta elección en México México Ra-Ra-Ra, a la poblacion que no forma parte de los lambiscones del 1% se los va seguir llevando La Gran Verga. Esperemos, licenciado Brozo, que los hijos de tu Patrón, don Emilio Azcárraga Jean, produzcan un Mario Alberto Kempes y no tengan que « chillar » como los meros machos cuando a HOLANDA no le pueden ganar, por mientras como siempre–y ya lo sabes pinche Brozo: ¡Chingas a Tu Madre!.. y Ya sabes de que esto es un USO JUSTO DE TODOS LOS PUTOS MEDIOS.

Al menos, en lo que a gobiernos va, México es mucho, mucho, mucho más excepcional que los pinches gachos… perdón, los pinches GAUCHOS, no los pinches gachos porque eso sería equiparar a La Hermana Ruepública de La Argentina con los mendigos italianos, y pues eso, ESO se Come con otra puta pasta. Lo cierto es de que los golpes de Estado y las devaluaciones monetarias son cosas del Gobierno de José López Portillo… el México de hoy es un México de ProMéxico que le pertenece a CANADÁ y cosas feas como las revoluciones [o golpes corporativos de estado, como por ejemplo, Raquelito, en Brasil] son cosas de otros tiempos, ahorita lo que importa en México es saber si para el próximo 16 de septiembre, el cabrón de Canelo “slim boy” Álvarez va a ser una MEADE segura… perdón, ahorita lo que importa es saber si para el próximo 16 de septiembre, el cabrón de Canelo “slim boyÁlvarez va a ser una MEADA, del verbo orinar… segura, o si la carne de caballo o de yegua le va a seguir haciendo daño a su carrera como pugilista, eh

Señor, licenciado y presidente municipal de Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua:



Se le solicita, por favor (tan pronto se cure de su puta rodilla) que para el próximo 1 de julio ponga un chingo de pantallas en las casillas del puto IFE (así como usted ya lo hizo con el Pokemon® para que los putos y putas fanaticas de la “decepción mexicana” puedan ser motiovados a que salgan a votar… de paso, señor alcalde de la televisión del Canal 44, le suplicamos que por favor deroge también, la puta “Ley Seca”; por favor.

Ya estuvo bueno de tanto almacenamiento de pisto, “like the night before“.

El Staff de

PostData: Viva México, Kabrones!

“Marcando limites”, para las fuentes de doña Vilma:

… porque “tengo que aprender a fingir más… y a pilotear los que pienso”.

Once inside, funny (and racist) thing happened at The Forum

28 de enero, 2008
Sabbatical day #24*

The good thing about this blog…
is that “PC” Security does not read it.



https ://www .reddit .com/r/mexico/comments/7ta8rs/para_todos_los_indocumentados_en_usa_cu%C3%ADdense/

Given the intolerant athmosphere around the globe, the above is a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. }-~~\•> Image capture îs courtesy of Reddit and

[Voz de hombre
Armando Segovia]

Last night i learned that racisim and intolerance has no color.
Meet the long lost sibling of Clayton Bigsby.
The French, Black (White Supremacist)


MKF83; ID EQ: 222
Caisse:23 – 28/01/2018
Resto # 25000035
17 Rue de l’Arc en Ciel
75001 Forum/Les Halles

Apophenia, no Mr. “PC” Security, this îs not a Star-shaped, asterisk analogy of your professional conduct; these here, MuthaFuker is one of many actual consumption receipts that Yours Truly got as PROOF OF PURCHASE you Son of a Bitch. }–~~~\•> Photo by: segoviaspixes; Photojournalist–at–Large. •—_!_—• The Staff wishes to thank Blas Beamonte FOR allowing our shutterbug to use his smartphone and produce this snapshot… Sos lo Máximo, Che! Gracias.

anygüey, the staff already covered the fact that the The American Embassy’s The French McDo’s slogan is: Venez comme vous êtes! Because as you all already know, it was the French who invented Nirvana, Kurt Cobain, and all of Seattle’s Best.

the staff also explained to the lovely Sarah Silverman how The American Consulate how Starbucks, has an Open Door Policy to their Wi-Fi connectivity and to their «W.C.» porcelain and PVC tube network, anyone, and we mean anyone – from raggedy-ass clochards, to pretty-pink–baby—ass–smelling fancy BoBo’s – can walk in, sit down (what a concept, eh?) and feel free to discharge all of the French regional protected patrimoine consumed in the previous 24 to 48 hrs.

As a matter of fact, the good folks at the counter are nice enough to give out fresh plastic cups filled with water – Free Water!!! with UNLIMITED REFILLS – and did I mentioned that the French McDo’s are also decked out with urinals? Yes, you’ve read it right, equipped with urinals. We [the staff] however, have yet to find the mythical McDo with the squirting Bidet. Do let us know if you stumble across it.

No, i will not respect your cartoonish “authoritaaah”, Mr, “PC” Security.

ANYGÜEY: last night at the referenced McDo, listed on this digression’s sub-header, our Photojournalist-at-large, segoviaspixes was engaged in his usual nightly conversation with two of his Transylvanian acquaintances who, like our shutterbug-at-large, share the distinction of being part of a larger crowd of SDF’s (Sans Domicile Fixe) that roam the streets and live on Skid Row.

Now, for a little backstory on this, know that The Forum, at Les Halls, is one of the trendiest and most popular hangouts for wannabe ghetto gangsters, schizophrenics, crackheads, winos, plain crazy psychos, Eastern European clicks, professional stray kid thieves (urchins) and, your plain regular curmudgeonly hobo; AKA: the parisian clochard.

Segoviaspixes has seen them piss in just about every fake plant in the quad foyer area, and that’s all that he is willing to say because this post is not about listing all of the things that happen inside of “The Canopée,” which during the Fall we [the staff] identified as being in the form of a set of Snakes Eyes, and that the structure has a parallel alignment with L’axe historique de Paris or Voie Royale, etc., etc., etc…

Throughout the mall there are guards, —obviously— who try to keep things in check but for the most part, any incident short of a stabbing, a bare knuckle fight, or say: arson [por decir] and they pretty much let the above mentioned crowd do as they please. One thing they are completely intolerant of is for anyone, including tourists, getting caught sleeping anywhere in the premises during business hours… that’s what the fire exits are for!!! Just don’t get caught in there, that’s the only rule to follow.

Anygüey, there is this one security guard who for the past couple of weeks has been having a real rage problem directed at our photographer-at-large, he’s a young black fellow who as they say in San José de Las Panochas; Municipio de Mapimi, Durango, “climbed on a fucking little brick” and with the altitude attained  he has developed Vertigo from the rush of power and the “authorithaaa” that the Rent-a-Cop uniform has afforded to him.

And no, Gustavo, it is not “Just My Imagination.”. 

There has been times when people near our esteemed colleague, segoviaspixes, have been pissing next to a store front, but “Mr. I have a plastic badge and a CB Radio” will come directly to our friend and start giving him shit. Normally segoviaspixes just turns around and let the fucker the feller get tired of barking, which then promps the guard to just leave.

At this point, segoviaspixes would like to add that this particular security guard is, as the people in Costa Rica say: el único negrito en El Gallo Pinto (the single dark grain of rice in the stock), because the entire cadre of Security Personnel is actually very chilled and professional, as a matter of fact the entire labor crews at the mall are pretty understanding of the peoples’ permanently living, or who are temporarily going through the Mad Season of Skid Row, but this particular fellow who for his actions last night prompted us [the staff] to break the Sabbatical once again, is right there with the fictional and most controversial character of Dave Chappell’s repertoire: Clayton Bigsby.

Last night he approached segoviaspixes and immediately asked him to leave the McDonald’s that he was just chilling in. He claimed that the manager had made a complaint specifically against him for loitering and not purchasing anything, which was a lie; in addition; next to segoviaspixes there where the two Transylvanian buddies, but the security guard said nothing to them, at the three tables to our left, the usual crowd of immigrants that sits there (usually about 6 or 10) were consuming products from Pizza Hut; Quick’s, and KFC – AND WOULD YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS MOTHERFUCKER said nothing to them!

Here’s the thing, segoviaspixes can take the hassle that comes with the living, and the walking, and the troubles of living in the GREAT URBAN OUTDOORS, but what he can’t fucking stand is a racist Son of A Bitch who starts a sentence like this:

You are in France speak French or Leave… you people are not welcome in France. France is for the French and the Europeean – Not For You People. Leave.

Here’s the thing, segoviaspixes speaks a very lackluster version of the language of Molière; yes, but when he has to, he attempts to speak it, and he usually succeeds at it.

…and for the record, Mr. “PC” Security, grantees of the Talents and Competences Visa Program, which our awesome photographer–at–large used to be the bearer of, are not even required to ENTER into Le Contrat d’Intégration Républicaine, or even make a trip to the OFII. So Take That to your NexT motherfucking shift, Mr. “PC” Security.

One thing that segoviaspixes will not Fucking do, is speak, in ANY GOD DAMN LANGUAGE to a Fascist bastard who is on a “ Respect MY Authoritah” trip.

And one last thing, Mr. “PC” Security, your job includes directing people to the proper exits, and to let them know when the exits to the Canopée-Garden close, something that you Mr. “PC” Security fail to do; and, I’ll have you know, Mr. “PC” Security, that often times one of your supuervisors has asked segoviaspixes to please let the movie-goers know (when he used to charge his Gadget by the Porte Lescot Exit) that the access to the Canopée-Garden are closed for the night.


Armando Segovia
Editor of this fucking blog.