Half a Beelion subpeanuts.:.661A676A-44E9-4615-9108-1F6D2026AF78 •|• There is no leaderSHIP when corrupt MultiBillionaires break the LAW and DAY Don’t GO straight to J.A.I.L. period, There is no LEADERship, mr. Biden.
Esteemed, Ayman, please bee advised the we [the staff] don’t pick–and–choose the postcards from the Edge, but You Too can get in line. In the mean time, while Donald continues to reveal the Soul of a country, and the peoples who rule them, we [the staff] would like to thank you, Sir, for showing the peoples who don’t read this most inconsequential blog, the most beautiful smile en un mundo patas pa’rriba. Gracias, señor.
There’s always Monaco, but only if you are a Johnson & Jon Sons Kids.
Might as well, JUMP, period
‘cus when the leBEE breaks,
Intro to Venn Diagrams
Chavelita II didn’t give a fuck about the size of them Brexiters, o algo así. It’s all part of The Process.
Y en el rol de El Chupacabras: DORIAN Gray, —of course.
Dear, Jazz àFip, your live transmission has feedback, and it sounds like shit. What‽ Are you Fela’s underground, OR… is it something In Da’Güey she moves. —Dear, LORDE!!! Are you Felas, inside of an Aluminum tank or, is it Something in the way Chi*—whoos you, eh?
CHI, of course is 1/2
Y Lee Noys.
Y túd y Catch.:.226104F4-B959-4909-98B1-13B1194A814E •|• Playball!!!
Proof that Paris, Paris just don’t give a darn. Take the fippers to Montreal, or some town with a big’Ol Bridge, and Suzy and them Sepultureros transmit from Bars, from Beds, from Beds and Breakfasts, period
Issy it’s like D.A.T., and that’s the way it is ; CAT III, period.. Hey, Brother, spare a ticket!!!
… yet In Paris, Paris sends DEM’ sirens to the underground, until the Staff let’s La Comadre Lety that it just would not work out between us. No Insistas, comadre Lety! Give them Sirens a proper cabin!!! No Seas!!! The Echo, not to mention the bunny-men, are just to much to bear.
It’s the Top of the Eight, and Camilo Cienfuegos is at the Mound, let’s see what François Truffaut relays from El Monte de los pendejos.
Finally!!! Turn the page, and Let it roll, Marcus, roll. Good thing that you don’t read hip-hop.
Tlaloc spared La Serie del Caribe pero El Chupacabras se perfila al Doral Nacionalista de Donald Trump. The Atlantic for children follows.
Besos desde Buckingham Palace, Venezia Thyming follows ; Aussi, period
European Model spoiler alert follows ; lyrics are courtesy of La Jornada de la HYSTERIA de PepeTomásElliott, de Def Lepparden Hong Kong.
Dear, Cousn Joe, don’t bee a Chuck Todd with Elrod.
“Hold the Line,” Mad Dog—6 dixit on The Atlantic, After Action Review follows… but First, Fidel is transliterating Jair Bolsorano and Donald Trump.
“Segunda cuestión, Bolsonaro es el máximo responsable del incremento de los incendios. Ya desde su campaña electoral inició una campaña de descalificación de las instituciones, leyes, regulaciones y multas dedicadas a la protección de la selva amazónica / Frontera de donald trump… I will pardon you, Take the Land.”
A funny thing happened…
Bambi is at the Mound, and former Nicolle Wallace’s Attorney General of the U.S., Antonio Gonzalez (sin acento) is wearing a catcher’s mask.
Fidel is at the plate, and Cancer is a circumstance that The Border Patrol and I.C.E. know one thing about. The file nº: Luis Posada Carriles. He (the former Bush the FOist “operator”) was given leniency because of his skin condition. C’mon, I.C.E. you have it in you, save another cancer victim, if you guys can make an exception for a terrorist like Luis Posada Carriles, why would you fuckers not warm your heart for a kid wit a 33-day get-da’-fuck- out of my Land notice from the LAW.