Tag Archives: Where-were-we’re… he said what?

It’s the 32nd hour in the Countdown for La Cuarta

From La Plata.
Santiago Badcock reports…

President Macron an his Chinese counterpart, Whinnie The motherfucking Phoo was were the first to arrive a La Milonga.

“Como La Concha de la puta de tu madre que te parió, you little bitch”, le dijo Vladimir a Donald Trump antes de que ambos se dirigieran en sus respectivas naves rumbo a La Milonga.

Mean, while Trump was fucked (with the Muller investigation) President Putin advised his stupid ass to take on the role of su chingada madre (que en paz descanse), as opposed to the cross armed baby pose, which his dumb–ass stiriked at the G–7 just a couple of news cycles ago in this season’s political ShowStopper: All The Globe is A motherfucking Stage.

TimeStamp: 20 para las Ocho de la mañana en París…

ISSY, mientras el G–20… pasa, en los alrededores del Elíseo los chalecos amarillos organizarón una comitiva para “dialogar” con don Lalo, mayordomo del palacio en la avenida más bonita de El Globo, according to the very French, mientras Jupiter anda Jupiteriando por el coño Sur… MIENTRAS Jupiter anda Jupiteriando por ¡EL CONO Sur!!!, no por el coño sur… Chi•hua•hua, pero qué coño con este otro extremo de desmadrosos, neta quesí—pariente.

Ciinco para las once… CET

MIENTRAS EL G–20 PASA 

Entonces, pues, mientras el G–20 pasa, El Público está siendo conectado a un mundo paralelo en dónde el nombre Chevy Chase era una ciudad en Maryland allá cuando los Estados Unidos Americanos eran aliados de Francisco Franco.

Eye’m Chevy Chase and Ewe are not. Right now it’s 11.20 in CENTRAL NATO TIMES

Eye’m Chevy Chase and Ewe are not, but if you could be my bodyguard—ΞγΞ can Call Ewe βetty—and Betty you can call Vladimir your Handler.

Más información sobre la salud de Francisco Franco en unos momentos con opinión de La Generalissima Elise Jordan, experta en novelas de Pablo Neruda… o algo así.

Previously… on Mercantilism

On our last episode of Mercantilism, when Capitalism reaches it’s Zen Space, (by Armando Segovia) our hero Bumblebee had landed in Paris in the middle of yet, another motherfucking scirmmage*.

*  It’s really the French National Sport.

Mean, while the President of the Russia was repossesing a pair of ‘porta aviones’ from the Ukranians, after his décrèpit fleet of only one polluting decaying fossil–fuel vessel had gone the way of the Soviet, his low’ball bitch in the U.S. of A., Donald Trump, was attentively studying new Doctrines on how to rule and control ‘the’ mass media from a Murderous Decepticon regime in Saudi Arabia.

La cosa se puso interesante cuando not far from the Opéra house, where Bumblebee had originally landed, Dirt Rocket and Wreck–Gar had just crossed over into the City of Lights where LES PILLARDS were milking the fuck out of our main muse’s gas pipelines.

ISSY, the unthinkable had happened, los PiPoPes de Hichicolandía had infiltrated** the Total™️ fuel delivery pipelines.

** …_much like Diego Luna, Armando Àlvarez and the Colombian narcos had done in a different universe bubble with planes and sea vessels filled with all kinds of Sweets for my Sweet, and sugar fo’ my Honey)

Anygüey, dear non–readers it’s 11 a.m. in Central NATO Time.
Coming up on the Energy Wars, Chanel 34*** the Lithium fix on the Sirius Freq
it’s time for, who else???
Yellow LEDbeter, and guys over at the Oasis in the Middle Eastern Sands
please don’t look back in ANGER… please not today.

Not on Madison’s Avenue GREEN DAY!

*** Channel 34
Fernando Valenzuela’s Jersey’s Dial
and elLay’s favorite UHF signal
ahora también en ESPAGNOL.
Consider this a WARNING,
Billy Joe, BULL on PARADE follows.

… but first, no self-respecting brainstormed script on Mercantilism would be worth its Rally around The FAMILY without a word of our non-sponsors at the Mad seasons Vintage on the rue de Ravioli, casi esquina con La MANGA de Saint-Jacques en Paname.