Fact check on las fuentes de doña Vilma follows…
🎶 Get off! .:. 98D51C49-67A9-44FE-AD3E-49ABCBFF18B6 📎 El próximo cuadro va dedicado virtualmente a mi Amiga valenciana (mabm) y, en tiempo real al señor arquitecto Leoncio Orellana, sub director de la Casa latinoamericana en Saint Germaine–des–Prés, casi esquina con la rue de Poitiers y La Legión de Honor (punto y coma)… but you are going to have to wait until los Hilos de Sasha (en Hawaii) catches up with the Central Europe Time, on Sunday, 14 de marzo del 2021. Once the DateLine is crossed, i am going to head over to La ARGENTINA in an attempt to show doña Vilma Fuentes y a los monitos de La Jornada en Madrid, “How to get to Serge Gainsbourg street.” In the meantime, “Oh, £ord, Please don’t let Mí Bee misunderstood.”
“ Al tomar la discreta calle de Verneuil, con o sus altos edificios silenciosos, uno y otro se verán sorprendidos por un largo muro que aúlla secretos, de un solo piso, pintarrajeado de grafitis coloreados, selva de frases donde no cabe una letra más ».
Gainsbourg el hombre convencido de ser feo,
por Vilma Fuentes para La Jornada
Amigo valenciano, per our brief conversation earlier today, as i walked by your obra, TE COMENTO que lo que sigue es una conversación re interpretada entre tu “NEREIDA y POSEIDÓN », en Saint-Michel casi esquina con El Unicornio del Cluny (look it up) 🔱 EA337033-A608-4D43-97D0-394A5FEA2C0B 🌬 Indeed, what “La Nereida” is relaying to Poseidon on the mural of your work-in-progress is that his Olympic ass might rule all of the ships and vessels that sail or submerge into the depths of his precious domaines, but can you imagine what would happen if little ol’Aquarius stopped carrying the WaWa for his stupid ass? Neptune’s oceans, and his rivers, his lakes and even his charcos, —Amigo valenciano— would dry the fuck up… yeah, Buddy, not to mention all of his fucking animalitos that would also perish into the dry Sands… de REBOTE, on your lienzo de plywood, Poseidón can only think of one thing, and that’s the BUS sign on his mouth; and that my Spanish friend, is what The POLICE call “Synchronicity”… unfortunately, i don’t have a La Unión card to explain, ⚡️the rest of the story.
Knot gonna lie. I first ran into N° 3 rue de Verneuil while searching for Alexis de Tocqueville’s chante on Lille street way back when FUKUSHIMA’s sushi was safe to eat^, and Eye gets the hyperbole about how that front-façade’s saturation with tags that pay homage to the son of Russian immigrants to France can’t fit another iota on its wall; i really do get it, but what her limited columna prevents doña Vilma from stating is that ese lienzo de enjarre (mal emplastado, por cierto Charlotte) is a constant draft (por no llamarlo un borrador) of tributes from Gainsbourg’s fan base. Dicho d’otra puta manera, hay quienes ven ese muro como un muro medio pintado—y luego hay quienes ven ese muro medio saturado.
^ You might recall how Neptune’s Trident struck that nuclear plant, —shall Öüï say— the wrong way…)
🎶 Sunny Days…
Can you tell Mí how to get—How To Get to Serge Gainsbourg Street? Y como bien de seguro no lo verá usted, doña Vilma, ya ve como aún queda espacio para el número de la humanidad (plus guest) y hasta para Lázaro y Ziggy Stardust! And in case you are Knot wondering, that’s Mí in the corner.
Serge Gainsbourg was a fag… but more than that, Charlotte’s dad is playing Centerfield on the Commune’s Softball Tournament à Vincennes, where Louise Michel is getting ready to strike a pose at the mound while Trade Union Honcho and mustache model, Philippe Martinez, is performing tricks with the bat while we all wait for the singing of the National anthem, “Aux armes”, etcetera.
Valencia… en La Universidad de Texas en Austin, esos murciélagos se transforman en, “mariposas amarillas, Mauricio Babilonia.”
Ahora bien, Amigo valenciano, ay’te va otra: me vas a negar que el blasón de Valencia no lleva un murciélago en la cima? Pues majo, That D.A.R.E. is Philippe Martinez playing TRICKS with* a BAT.