Note to editors:
Although the following are branches from the same tree, there are nuances that separate a “Los Amigos de México en Francia” from the « Mexican Bananero Club in Paris », so know your chicken, Cibo Mato.

Coming up on the PBS “Smooth Ruckus” Hour, with Yamice Alcindoor… Claire McCass sits on the edge of Peach and eats a Seat!!! _—•!•—_ GEORGIA, Georgia,  Georgia 🎻 And in Washington, at the BIG BOARD, i shot you Knot, the World learnt that from the very beginning it has been, Adam and Steve. It’s called intelligent design and it’s only on the Peacock Brand. Check local listings for BriWi.

“🎶 Here they Come—the beautiful ones,
the beautiful ones, ya’ ya’ ya’—yea”

The London Suede… not to be confused with The Swede del don.

 

To synch–in with the Panafricanism in France, the police in Kenosha, Wisconsin (just below Canada) cleared the police officer who crippled a black man to a life-on-wheels.

https ://www .fox6now .com /news /wi-national-guard-mobilized-to-preserve-public-safety-in-kenosha

For the record, i don’t have the pleasure of knowing Estefanía Veloz, Gibran Ramírez, and Lorenzo Meyer, but I do know John Mill Ackerman, and I don’t care what the Mexican Bananero Club in Paris (morena–Francia) say or not say about my time as an independent reporter in France (2011-2015) because i did tell you all that PROFESSOR John Mill Ackerman was getting paid “under the table”, in a certain kind of way, and now that The World of Le Monde at La Sorbonne is aware that he is an “organic intellectual” or, « SITUATIONAL OPPORTUNIST » with a Ph.D in populist propaganda courtesy of The REPUBLIC OF FRANCE, i am going to explain to JULIAN ASSANGE why he should accept Mexico’s offer to go live the rest of his life in the NUDE paradise known as Zipolite, Oaxaca.

But first, señor Julián, i have to explain to my counselor at El Patron’s house why.

And here is why, counselor:

Lorem Ipsum … there are many, many, many, —muchos, pues— ways for which a person might get trapped in the situations that the benevolent class in France call, misery, which should not be confused with homelessness, vagrancy, substance abuse and/or dependency, and all of the things that get attached to what La Jornada’s Paris contributor, Vilma Fuentes describes to her readers around the world, as las idiosincrasias and/or QUIRKS de « los clochards ».

Misery, i would suggest is at a different depth and it is very specific. You could find yourself without a home or minus a roof over your head and not be miserable. Your stomach might growl at you, or behave in very strange and sometimes explosive way (literally) and still not be miserable. Rain, cold, heat, humidity might catch you outdoors without the proper gear and still, —not make you miserable.

In other words, all of the above conditions might make you mad, uncomfortable, or can even put you in pain; but miserable, well miserable is when you cross a certain threshold after a certain period and/or seasons of living under mitigating circumstances and conditions and, (this is important) you have a shift in the way that you used to think.

It’s when your purpose and ideals (if one ever had any to begin with) go to shit not for decisions made under the auspices of a thing called AGENCY, but because of the agencies who protect corrupt so-called “Organic Intellectuals” or bonafide soft-dictatorships like the one that i was writing about from 2012 to 2017 just before i really–really, really, really got to know the Streets of Bakersfield in Paris, France… if you are into Country music and all those miserable themes.