Entonces Nancy Zahmer, en dónde quedó proméxico?
Sprechen Sie Slam? Word!
Indionecio’s Romance en Palermo
After the break is the shoeshine boy de da’Maddow Show followed by Armando Segovia en La Casa de México en París.
Burn 🇺🇸 Baby — Burn 🇺🇸
Story by Catalonio Barcelonneto de Peralvillo, guión por Fenster the copy editor.
The fucking slaves de Virginia 💅🏽 let’s get the bland crackers. American his–$tory streamed and your mashed potatoes sin sal.
Snarky Barrel… now serving re-disticted puppies en Creamed Beef Stroganoff.
Pero si Katty Kay, that damn barrel was just about the only item with flavor on that logo, and maybe the water depending on which state of the union the Cracker Barrel franchise is at.
And Cousin Joe… Indeed bitch 🥃 CHAYOTE “chinese” CHIPS à volonté.
For the love of money : mean green chips.
En fin Nancy Snarky, how do you like’em puppies?
Snarky Tacos
Eye tell Ewe, Katty Kay… if this fucking cellphone was a piano (bar) instead of a porn-rendering machine (dive). If only.
Encuentros Cinematográficos Viva Mexico
No Congés were hurt in the spanking of these congas… en un minuto de Jazz: no insistas Nancy Somber, Öüï don’t need no stinkin’ Instant Grams!!! I have Crack ⚽ in my blood.
Octubre 2011
Hecho en México
by Duncan Bridgman
produced by
Bernardo Gómez
Deer Isaac, by the power vested in Mí by the motherfucking Producers, and Mephistopheles… Eye hereby remind all Goodfellas and House Painters that:
In The Hand of Bart — Jazz’jueves vieja…
Mel Brooks is God and Martin Scorsese is off-course a Jumping Jack Fag.
Sin celery,
D’ante y D’espues
But first, Amarillo By Morning… up from San Ant’on.
Fidel Castro was God… at The Melania Trump Center
Mojito
Kiss 💋 🎸
In D.C. insertions, Pablo Torre inserted his buddy. It’s Ivy League and connections, or just plain ol’nepotism, and this! This is why Donald Trump is master of ceremonies at the Kennedy Center’s last dance with Democracy in America, it’s in French so fuck if even Eye can understand that shit.
And no mister Blumenthal, no. Wake up from Morning Joe. It’s no mystery look into my i’s. My i’s are dotted, how about your tee’s?
Verbatim: Molotov they thought that they were the underground, of that I don’t have the slightest doubt. What happened is that the underground is on the surface. Carlos Monsiváis, January 1998.
ALASKA is/was Russian… Silvester Stallone stars as a Connect-Eye—Cut write-in candidate.