Breaking Time Zones… in Hilo, Hawaii, la trêve hivernale is about to expire, after midnight (of all time zones) and in Paris, France, it’s Poisson d’avril knews and news that the 99% can relate to, Emily Munera… like an old tale about the Marseilles-es in Mexico, as contemporary as Pinocchio con Guignol, all strings wrapped au tour de tous nuts!
Over at Radius Franche Musique, GRAbrielle de La Plaza Olvera-Guyon hanged Juan-Bautista Urbanus with a set of The Rolling Strings… Eye is furious, FAST! Eye wants SATºISºFACTºIons Now! Saturnino. And while youse at it, give Mí Shelter, you sexy motherfuckers.
and you are not
¿Quieren más o les guiso un huevo?
You know what’s funny, Señora Bizern, it’s that Cinéma du réel – Bande annonce du festival on YouTube… would you like to know why? Climb up to the third floor and cross yo’ass into the Tympan jukebox, where you can listen to 2000 versions of Dylan’s “Romance in Durango” but you cannot, EYE repeats, — Ewe cannot watch that neat little Bande Annonce of the Bpi’s OWN film docuMENTaire fest.
It’s one thing to call yourself the public information of whatever, it is quite another to ban Milo the mythbuster guy on the monitored monitors just because mister Xavier Ray is intimidated by Orlando’s doppelganger mane on Ewetu. I swear, looking at all these people just makes me wanna puke on a Mimosa 🍾…
Mateo García of Desierto (2015³) knows this: I can see for Miles, and for Chet, and even for Carlos Colorado 🎺.
Or not, maybe I will head down on one of them kick-ass glass elevators to la “Grand Salle”. I only ask of Mr. Xavier Ray to keep his dogs at bay.
In case We needs to be reminded that in Paris, France, hay escuelas de Perros, see Marco Antonio in the reference file of, “Y tú mamá en Montreuil”.
The California Pinto League, at Chino Heights just across from the 🤙 Loma Linda Crooks ✌️, is proud to welcome The Pharmer John’s Conspiracy Convict Tabernacle Choir from Oh, Hi-O’ into the Phrame.
Oh, that’s Foul Territory: please stand for The National Anthem, get yer’ Crackers, Jacques.
Featuring, The Sopranos and the new version of CARMEN at the Bpi, ladies in Gemini please clap yo’palms FO’, Patty “red crotch” PETIBON!!!!
Now, to be perfectly fair I don’t believe that el Lic. Carlos Prieto, curador del montaje en Mexicali selected (himself) the Original Score (ONE MORE TIME by Daft Punk) for the clip about the ballad, or the legend, or el cuento chino about an unspecified number of Asian people that apparently lost their life, or were murdered, or disappered near an inactive volcano named CERRO PRIETO near the coast lines of el Golfo de California.
Y no, Catherine BIZERN at the 45th EDITION of RÉEL 2023 on the bottom part of the Beaubourg, NO! —I don’t blame Mr. Prieto for the poor choice of music selected to introduce a regional landmark that like it or not, defines a big LOT of the history of Mexicali at the dawn of the last century in Mexico, instead I blame the staff at “La Gaceta UABC”, and so the staff of “La Gaceta³” leaves me with no other choice but to dance to the beat that Mexicali plays, if nothing more and for no particular reason because this here motherfucking trip started at the end of “La Ruta Centenario | Bicentenario de la Independencia de México y de la Revolución Mexicana », in 2010 when the French in L.A. said « d’accord, entrez », tenga su pinche visa profesional, ahora Sr. Segovia, cuéntenos una de VAQUEROS en Francia… mais il faut dire “s‘ilvous plaît“.
³~. Quite possibly a godson or daughter of the alternating political powers in Mexicali, to call it nepotism is just TO DISCONTINUE the challenge of LOOKING at MEXICO in the EYE and relay to MARCELO EBRARD: I Gotcha, Bitch!
Problematizando en Cachanilla, anyhow, Susana PubEda, don’t tell Emily “tu paisana” Munera, but the chino in question was named Rodolfo, and every one in the region referred to him by his first name, and the life in Yellow 🟡 life that he lead.
HOWEVER, Camaron Cachanilla, I will dock you a THEY’s PAY for “proposing problems” and quite possibly, “nappin’ on the job”.
Produced by Nick Gold, from the cancelled visa at The Buenavista Social Club…
¡Es cosa del otro Jueves!
For context, little ol’Eye had the opportunity to shop at Mr. Chong’s general merchandise store in a little railroad stop smacked in the middle of El Bolsón de Mapimí between San José de Las Panochas and, Ceballos, Durango; the doorway to La Zona del Silencio antes de arribar a YERMO, antes de Escalón.
Mr. Chong sold his store right after López Portillo nationalized the banks and the Chong’s, as I remember moved to Torreón… [ in case youse wondering³ what this post has to do with Mr. Prieto’s “Cerro Prieto” Expo en Mexicali,Baja California, just two weeks ago…] anyhow, years later, at least two decades after Mr. Chong emigrated from the Ejido to El Pueblo de Torreón, i saw Mr. Chong, but in another form. His descendants took his body back to that Ejido en El Bolsón de Mapimí and buried his rests there. So to answer Juanito Guanavacoa’s son in Canada, ‘YES’ Juanito J.R., you may Copy-Paste the text and knowing your kind, o sea, pinches chilangos, I know that you are going to claim it —now that your daddy is French,— for yourself. Enjoy motherfuckers.
So, with that out of the güey, let’s talk about xenophobia, and for that we begin at the Latin American House in Paris, France, where Jorge Harmodio, an ex-patriado from Mexicali, Lower California, to that lovely pueblo donde se dan los corruptos y lambiscones —llamado— Ecatepec, Edo. de México, is standing by with Ely Guerra; —Julieta Venegas, from San Diego, California, is in Burdeos at another of MARCELO Ebrard’s presidential campaign events (in 2011).
https ://www .radiofrance .fr /fip /podcasts /club-jazzafip … Eye have it on good authority to call this session Au⁷⁹, Gold, Niño Luc! Gold.
Let the record show that this blog, Armando Serrano Prieto, and I can’t speak for Micromégas, are in no way related to El Cerro Prieto, en Mexicali, but if you’re familiar with the Brave New World boys from Tecate, Baja California (norte) then you know that Öüï has been there.
Other than that Jean René, let’s not read what the RUMOROSA 🌬️ relayed… After Midnight follows.
CIGARROS A HONG KONG
It’s right there on the credits, and Mr. 🌴, that’s quite the list them cats got D.A.R.E., heck Eye reckon that there’s a ghost in that joint. Or is about to start squatting on the Second floor. Pay no attention to that freq., that’s all that ghost is, —pure fucking white noise, but very Réel if you benchmark that signal with The So-called “Havana Syndrome”.
Anyhow, David Romo (Ph.D. from a pretentious Italian University, or maybe it was Dutch, i forgot) talks about “MetaHussrPhysics” from his ringside seat to a Romance from Durango, y no chingaderas, o algo así… ¡Alló SILVER, kimozabee?
A Caballo Vamo’ Ah Cuéncame, soy segunda generation Ejidatarios… Guajiro in the bay of pigs.
It’s a RéEL SºCºAºMº
It got’s to be!
little mediaBoy is there
With his faggety rolled-up 🗞️ gossip
And, sir, I met Micromégas and that interplanetary nigga’ owes me Five Bucks! Anyhow, Microman, say hello to the MiniMinuteman on the Archeology trip through La Rumorosa. Has anybody brought your inquisitive curiosity up to date, yet? Hace como dos o tres años ma’o menos, se Volarón a Voltaire. Montaigne still keeps his lips sealed 🤐… zipped, Eye tell Ya’!
Preliminary reports point to Florence Cassez, but that lead has been cleared by Ana Anabitarte at, Eye shit’s Ewe KNOT: El Universal de México 🥛✈️… Or maybe it was El Heraldo.