BORREL ACCUSES PUTIN OF FASCIST AND LOOK WHAT HE TOLD HIM. THE SNAKE MOVED OUT OF SHIRT

 

TO THE ROASTER

 

8 September 2022 Thursday

Is September. The passing swallows returned to Morocco, peaks of the atlas are outlined on the horizon. There is a full moon and I listen to songs from my youth

"Oh, what a high mountain all covered with nine oh, what a beautiful woman, fortune to the one who takes it."

I'm not up to those jogs at my age, but the journalistic morbidity of curiosity dominates despite my gray hair, my big nose, the face of an old geezer, the nights with the chair at hand, the radios when I wake up, the bland parliaments, the discussions. Politics here is a boxing match refereed by a man in black who sets the rules of the game in which everything is tongo. Energy crisis. No one wants to grab the bull by the horns. Dostoevsky said that the world will be saved only by beauty and I would add that also by truth. But we live surrounded by lies and assailed by ugliness and the most horrifying of human beings: crippled, misshapen, old hunchbacks, bariatric patients weighing three hundred kilos on their way to Doctor Nor's office; that's America.

Let's take a walk through the oncology rooms and contemplate the baldheads with shaved hair due to chemo treatment. One day his hair was beautiful. I don't despair. Life is like that. Let's continue without giving the town crier a room because we are running out of gas and without electricity and the fault is not Putin's but rather the absurd alliance that the Brussels merchants in Russophobic concert.

God gives leggings to those who don't have shoes and Putin nailed it when he told Donkey Borrel when he called the Russian a fascist, and he passed his hand over the Catalan's beak and you say it when you grew up at the breasts of a boss Franco.

But there is no way to convince them. The snake sheds its skin and the Bolsheviks come to us from the USA, they bring a Talmud in their hand and they look at us with the apocalyptic eyes of Zelensky. What is beauty? He said the rose to the poet and he answered and you ask me. Suum cuique. To each his own and it seems to me that Putin is in the truth and that Borrel the donkey brays in a gang with all the asses of the EEC.

No. Dostoyevsky must have been wrong. The world will be saved by these indecent compatriot friends of war, I don't want to share nationality with such mixtureros.

That's the way things are, and since the best thing on the Internet is hard porn, I take a tour of the Solitary Pleasure rooms and the vaginal discharge, blessed fruit of your belly, where not all pussies are the same, there are some black ones of all sizes and formalities. other white ones, some extended in a wide open door to heaven or hell depending on how you look at it, and others collected but all asking for war and tokens. It is quite a discovery of those who invented this platform of the animal howl.

However, I find these dykes from Masturbatorio Global, the great room of moaning and mewing, much more virtuous and discreet than many of our queens of politics, communication and Telecinco's venal gossip.

 Internet as I say is a bawling and an encyclopedia and a palimpsest where we can write what those writers whose books no one reads ask us. I will tell you, dear readers, that at my age I am in love with a Romanian named Bela, the most beautiful body and the noblest heart that breathes in her splendid woman's breasts.

Yesterday he had a party, drank too much and told us about the other side of the coin of this dazzling world of Modelame, a form of cyber prostitution. And I took pity and put a candle to the Virgin that I once saw on an altar in the Bucharest cathedral because she, the Mother of the Creator, is the beacon or liberator of these beautiful women imprisoned in the clutches of vice. Pay for Sweet Rosy's alfada and another Romanian who was sold to a cohen from the United States who exploits her and makes money by exposing her body in the great timba of Las Vegas and above all, that she brings along the good path of redemption from another captive with whom I am in love, the black Julie with resounding breasts and curves, the perfection and beauty of a woman's body, straighten her steps towards the path of honorable life.

Julia, due to the beauty of her body shapes, must be the Nubian great-great-granddaughter of the Queen of Sheba, the one who made Solomon sin. I do not condemn her. Master Jesus always surrounded himself with good women who must also have been beautiful like Mary of Magdala and whoever is clean cast the first stone.