And starring as El Aníbal… mister Washington, of course

In local news, Eric Clapton killed Jimmi Hendrix and the fucker fled to Mexico, more on that with Katty Kay at the BBC.

Across The Atlantic, down Mexico’s Güey, “Sleep Numbers Mattress” McCartney was waiting for the Slow Hand on the clock to hit 20h mile mark to smoke a Japanese joint like some cat from Cuernavaca.

And if Ewe’ve Eva Bean (🫘 ³) then you probably know that in México, that city is where los tacos orientales were invented only to be turned into a burrito (🌯) in Grenoble by the French.

³~. Eye has never bean (🫛 ) D.A.R.E..

Any hoot, Paul’s broken a glass but that is not a problem because his very own Sleep Number mattresses are very rich, so he just bought another one for the memorial.

Previously on parapandering with a loaded caulk gun

Now Is Knot The Thyme To Talk About Red Lobsters At The Shitty Wök

What are the odds, Eye can’t even mention a fucking lobster ban without opening a can of City Wok, Jesus H. Fucking Christ. Anyhow, it’s the start of a three-they Hunter Moon, and in Paris, France, hoy no hubo noticias…


Any-hoot, it’s Aleister Crowley’s remembrance month and just in Thyme for Hello-Ween, tonight’s Full Moon will appear to hold until Tuesday’s Gone, Bay-Bee!

Issy, it’s Magick 🪄 not a stage act from El Teatro de los dos pueblos en Châtelet where it’s DICTÉE Day, y’all.

It’s Magick🪄 not a special engagement, Moon and Jupiter will be paired tonight.

It’s 22:20 in CET, and I don’t have the slightest clue as to why tonight’s Full Moon seems to have a protractor-like shadow that nibbles the Earth’s nat-sat between its 5 and 7 o’clock. If you have a clear view looking N-E, perhaps you too will not believe your lying i’s.

Checking our handy-capable Star Walk app Öüï found the nibble monster, Issy-it’s-Ahfaken GOAT… 🐐


7h20 Hilo, Hawaii — I Dig Love


Parapandering in Paris with a loaded caulk gun.

Carte what, Dub’ya? ⚾

Play ball!

¡Ay! Barbara! No Body Loves Baseball in Paris, but that is only because Parisians are a bunch of FaGs.

Dominique Galouzeau de Villepin, does not agree, it’s 2001, and now as always, FUCK BARBARA BUSH! And in the word of Villepin: PLAY BALL MOTHA FUCKER!!!

Just Caulking around, o como diría Jorge Saldaña de los franceses: they don’t Caulk around with engrudo con los dedos para los pobres en Acapulco, Otis.