And, Stephanie Menou, Brontis knows that there ain’t no Badum-tisch 🥢 Here

Quick programming note for those keeping score… Frank Sinatra at Two minutes to Tú throws a Curva to the Peacock crew, and partner… D.A.T. is all Eye is going to tell the waiter… Garçon!…

and Chinito, chinito

P.S. Ray Cooder is of course, a “Sant A’morica” fag! Gooooooo, Dodgers.

Öüï do[es] it in Kilometers here… it’s more of a rounded task and easier to digest that π

MIKA ALONE, can fix Mí, period

1. This is a special edition tribute to The Rachel Maddow “Debunction Junction” gig list SHOW, with special guest, El Charro 🇨🇺 de María Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Baeza 🇵🇷 Charo… from 🇪🇸 💃🏼

Indeed, Rachel Maddow, indeed. I felt your re-vindication from last Tuesday edition of your 3:16 quote, except of course, that some people in la /r/rance cult thought that it was a real Charade, but Eye is here to tell you, it was confirmed as a real Union paying-gig. But i didn’t get paid. There is a reason for that, it’s called a BLACKLIST, and my name is highlighted.

2. Los acomodados, look it up Willie Geist, call it improvisation, the incomodos outside of the Hardware store call it a gig, a one-day job and if you do what you are told you just might make the lens and get a “that’s Mí in the corner” certificate.

Consider this the final stretch of El Obituario a don Pablo Barto•lo•mÉ, oriundo según el mismísimo Pablo, —de Segovia, España.

Y dígame usted, don Pablo —primo del ‘Glison’— ¿qué es un obituario sino’tra cosa que un corrido, o como dice Marty Robbins, —una balard… o algo así (punto y coma) pay attention to February 2017, that’s when i drink a toast to you._⛹🏽‍♂️

And Pablito, the Babylon Clause de lenguas does not apply on this ride, just sit back and let Mr. Karl Lagerfeld (check the entry log) direct you to your cubbyhole and listen to another band out of Boston.

Dancin in the streets [with hyaenas]
We were getting pretty good at the game
People stood in line and didnt seem to mind
You know everybody knew our name Livin on rock-n-roll music
Never worry bout the things we were missing
[But] when we got up on the stage and got ready to play Evry body listen… in Ivry.

So, you paint president’s portraits, eh?

“El arquitecto de tus lados incorrectos… 🎶 🛶

Porte-avions de nouvelle génération… for Saudi Arabia and the UAE. 🎶 The Sheik he drove his [FABULOSO] Cadillac He went a cruisin’ down the ville…

.:.
I want you to draw me like one of your French whores .:.

And Alicia Menendez, never mind Saudi Arabia and the UAE… remember the next time that you read “the book”, I did tell you all a few days ago —que ya valió, Belgas. And Nicolle, —if you are knot reading— i can hear the dirty little coodies bubbling like the last Alka-Seltzer™️ during an Epic hangover at the playground.

Coming to theaters this Fall. Leonardo di Caprio stars as Jack, and i honestly just forgot —What’s The Name of The Rose? Umberto?

Hey, JACK! The Sea of Cortéz called... he said that Puerto Peñasco (Rocky Point for gringos) told him that La Vaquita is fucked:
🌬💨🌊🐬🐮🐬🐄🐬🐮🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

Gobierno de AMLO abandona a la vaquita marina, que se acerca a la extinción

Anyhow, The Last Dictator on the Scene of Eastern Europe is getting a “La Vie Est Belle” review in Washington, D.C. —of all places— and with that in mind ÖÜÏ now returns to SIX DEGREES of Bacon bits on the Old César Salad diet regime.

FO’ist, and for the sake of skipping Eco’s NUMBERS GAME on pages 32º and 33º ÖÜÏ is going to create a new level of SINCRETISMO on the Back of El Toro de Guamúchil, Sonora, Fernando Valenzuela, Nº 34: “Let’s Play Hardball”

Miopía para principiantes (Tyson de Grasse Cave’s)

Deliverance: Squint like a pig.

And Roger, my friend, please relay to The American Priest who is sponsoring all of that awesome art at the gates of the Lord of Vandières and Cernay final resting place, that he might have to 🎶 squint [his] eyes a little closer, because i am beyond [his] peripheral vision… I am 32 flavors, —and then some.

Ladies in Gemini: Valga la redundancia, el rock del Éte. Interpreted by Joshua “gran belga” Johnson in the role of Jason “el flamenco” Johnson… and she’ll like it, Aussie — tAmBiÉn:

https ://fr .wikipedia .org /wiki /Liste_des_statues_des_façades_de_l%27hôtel_de_ville_de_Paris# /media /Fichier:Hotel_de_ville_paris037.jpg

M. Mole will tell you, you have got to know your mole, is it made with that Ol’Thyme PiPoPe recipe or, Alicia MenÉndez (You Sexy mother of child) is the aforementioned moleprepared with the Hyde-and-sic variety from Puerto Escondido?

MOLES!!! Doña María! 💨

In any case, Joshua Johnson, you have got to know how to distinguish between your pasty Farmer John™️ Cal Perry Unions from your Medeas secret collard greens molcajetes in Veracruz… i believe that in Banderilla the natives there call that Dish: chayote.

I must insist, Mme. Hidalgo, your tourism board has no fucking imagination what-So-ever… pass the biscuits.

It’s Prime Time in Hilo, Hawaii, and in Paris, France, ya valió belga 🌬 🎵 It’s just another They, tun tun, Tune — Thun.

🎶 I wish Eye Knew how it Feels to be Fr… with Susana Poveda 🇪🇸

_Cont’d from:

Insofar with our exclusive interview with Roger Pérez, el artista has revealed the concept behind Cian Eyes, and how Mr. Pérez got to France, however; one thing that Mr. Pérez has not made clear _-*!*-_ BACBD6BE-95A1-4673-85DF-D23F920D6884 🎵 ¿Quién pondrá fin a mi diario—al caer, la última hoja en mi* Calenda•rio. JMS… (Si la muerte pisa mi huerto).

* El destino quiso que fuera yo, Sr. Bartolome sin las casas, siendo que los lunes es mi permanencia y por eso, los martes amanece el lugar con música en la entrada.

🎵Well i‘ve never been to Spain
But I kinda like the music

Three doG Knight

And, Mr. Bartolome, once you cross that UMBRAL you don’t Have to Worry about “the curse” of Babylon. Why just listen to The American Priest in Paris, because if Mr. Pérez was not hyperbolizing on the Soundtrack for last Thursday’s portrait session at Saint Estauche, then HIGHWAY TO HELL, yes, the same Highway to Hell that brought you Hells Bells, was blaring from the ENTRAÑAS of the Lord of Vandières and Cernay’s final resting place.

Sin Embargo, if you are not a regular none reader of this blog then YOU PROBABLY MISSED our exclusive coverage of, An American sermon on Ascension Day, at the end of May, then YES!, EWE would be forgiven because you would have no way of knowing that it was our very friend without the “D” (aka) an American Priest in Paris who invited Bon Scott and the Young’s to do a set at the Church of Commerce à Les Halles. JUST THE FACTS, and yes AFP—you may source that with the Church’s log.

For the record, —if you are in on the joke— there is a reason on my log for this obituary, which i reckon is going to rub some people in the wrong way. Without Mr. Bartolome’s “input” on a February morning, there would not be a trail of paperwork from Emmäus–to–Medicines San Frontiers–to–Amnesty International (Paris).

Ladies in Gemini, meet my Old Horse, Rocinante sans plomb.

Full Circle. Destino Manifiesto al revés… a developing lunar cycle. |Foto por Armando Segovia. “This is not a free cultural license”; al contrario. Existe una atribución 4.0 de CreativeCommons: CC/By/NC/SA. || copy-left.

Today, Rocinante Sans Plomo is a hearse, and Öüï is carrying a very special edition load to Hell, Welcome Pablo. Relax… i know this little bar in Austin that i know que te va a gustar.

De cualquier manera don Pablo Bartolome, you where parked on my number (33) which ( punctuation aside) is directly at 180° from The Guardian at the door that never opens, nº 15, —off course.

 

 

 

Dear, Frank Zappa… Eye[s] beg to differ

Off-course, Mr. Mother of Invention, EWE of all the “Calaveras y Diablitos » should meet Rodrigo González, best known as Rockdrigo or El profeta del nopal, Rockdrigo died at age 35 from a CEMEX overdose.

Joe’s Garage remastered, featuring Katty Kay as a Catholic Girl. —_•¡•_— And Dweezil, be advised that the Tempo here is set to CHOSI, and in a few Eye will explain on account that Loss of Signal keeps cutting the cord on our Draft… [B]ut as a *place holder* not everybody has a blind Al Pacino in the role of  Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slate looking out for “Charlie” at prep school. Por Ejemplo, take Alex Lora, who in their “CHEMO-frying” mind (FZ-10) would have thought at Avandaro that THAT weasel would be ARRANGING “Estación Balderas” with a Symphony Orchestra? WHO?

And Moon, go ahead and pretend that you are not deconstructing yesterday’s re-interpretation of the Classic Album Cover of JOE’s GARAGE at Saint-Eustache’s Southern facing Wall… the one with The Stag 🦌 below The Superstar ✝️.

Nice touch with Joe’s “Saying Goodbye” as the soundtrack to Jimmy and Buddy [22’32”] but Eye is willing to bet Luc Frelon’s bubble-gum wrapper collection that regardless of whatever Hendrix was occupying his time on/or with, like ROCKDRIGO, (Estación Metro Balderas —original version which is about an autochthonous couple becoming separated at a metro station, and NOT stolen version for Les Nuls rendered by El TRI de Lora, knot El TRI de Deschamps, Didier), HENDRIX didn’t have time to change his life on account that he died from a Cement Overdose.

And if you are just joining our G7/Euro coverage please scroll down a few hours on this blog to find that Ewe cannot adjust the settings (punto y coma) Witt that in Mind, DO NOT TRY TO ADJUST YOUR SETTINGS*****—–~ This is a Psycho Chicken Update:

https ://www .fip .fr /emissions /les-annees-fip /les-annees-fip-1993

AND RUSSIA, “if you are listening »:

Josef Talin is Knot a Happy Camper en el mundo de Le Monde (Friday, 11 June edition), on account that Russian ‘Groots’ had a sort-of, kind-ah, seems-like a Nostalgia party in the Woulds.

The ina . fr just took Boris’ ‘WHY’ Priviledges from Russian revisionists… George H.W. Bush is laughing his ass-off along with Senator McCain in Vincennes.

“IT!, sounds corny, —but IT! is Knot in Cornwall,” where the score is 120 Theys… give Joe a Break.

In Local news, Joe Manchin is OUT.

Hoy es martes 13, y mañana — Raquelito…

… demain, Cher, Rachel:
it’s Pie Day.
Aussi, les images n’ont pas besoin de mots
pour parler… ni mucho menos
Corazón:
los números!!!

In the mean time, and while we continue to draft a self-commissioned review of last Friday’s “LycanthroPie” in Real Time¹, and then reload the Salma Hayek filesreload the Frida Kahlo files; guest starring, Mr. John Leguizamo, we [the staff] bid farewell to a very close acquaintance of ours.

El nopal en la frente “is optional”… Context, Dr. Netas, follows.

Entonces, pues, with the month of March being International Females month* the following must be read with the enchanting voice of any of the FIP SIRENS and their “under any circumstances” programming.

*  FYI:
in a place called France,
women don’t like it when men… those fucking pigs!
Address them as woman…
so much for John Lennon, that fucking, prick.
Dijo, Cynthia.

}—~~~~\*>

Requiem for a little Green Bag…
adieu à mon sac à dos.

No te esperaba — pero como me hacías falta.

Los buenos elementos de La Sopa en Saint Estauche nos presentaron… como tú, diría un marino estadounidense en una película de Kubrick, habían muchas, “but this one (motherfuckers) is MINE”.

Anygüey, la otra bolsita, a little Red Bag by–the–way, como tú, también se descosió aunque bajo diferentes circunstancias, y para colmo: ¡en el último —puto— jalón de escalada!

A ti, little green bag, no solamente te tocó la inclemencia del invierno parisino del 2018, sino que también tuviste que aguantar los jaloneos del pakistaní alcoholizado que quería arrebatarte de mi, de las pandillas de antillanos que simplemente querian cagar el palo, o aquellos desmadrosos de la banlieue que bajan a Châtelet como si fueran una incursión de Vikingos, o Hells Angels en Carbonville… that’s a Wild One reference —y’all… ¿yo qué culpa tengo de que una de las morras de esos pinches desmadrosos le echara un ojo a mis huesos?

En fin, querida mochila verde llegaste a mis hombros en las pascuas decembrinas y ayer en estas pascuas que van a recibir a la Primavera tú ya no aguantaste más…

Happy Rabbit day!

Aunque tú por lo menos, y eso es mucho que decir Little Green Bag, no te arrugaste como aquél cuero viejo, que una vez quise para tambor de guerra. Por lo menos tú, bolsa de canvas con relleno de mezclilla aguantaste hasta que los relevos ya hubieran librado el abismo y el underground para que los suministros llegarán a tu seguro servidor.

Merci, porque como dicen Las Sirenas en FIP:
“ALL THE COOL IN YOU IS [WAS] ME”.

… https ://www .youtube .com /watch?v=FmqaT1pMtL0

PS…
“I don’t believe in Heaven, but i believe in Hell, and i’ll see BOTH of you there.”


All the sources you need to know are available at 35:27 of:

She get’s too hungry for dinner at eight.”

C’est comme ça… ni pedo, de cualquier manera, Brozo, chingas a tu madre.