Elizabeth Taylor Walked Egyptian

I like the factual data suggesting immigrants from far flung places, some of them of origins such that rice might be dispersed at weddings, wherein old roads become new, and babes, born, feel at home, welcomed, comforted, and indeed, are.

You’re in Cuba, and you’ve watched your sister brought on stage, a Vegas stage, where she kicks up some fluff, some Stormy Monday, some Stormy Daniel, some HR Puff n’Stuff…

San Juan Puerto Rico, in addition to Voice of America, connects to the USA because Puerto Rico is a possession, protectorate, or–get this– territory– of the USA. Not Cuba, not Haiti, not Little Saint James, or, for that matter, Helsinki/country/city/power/knowledge/ — Grenada! “Make America Great Again”, a slogan used to great effect by Ronald Reagan involved Camp Grenada, and the F-troops, or D- -troups, and medical students, which involved Abby Hoffman, no way Israel, Israfel, long Noel, or H-E, tired, her makeup running, not that she went full on Barbara Streisand, or Elizabeth Taylor, mascara-wise, thought to be Egyptian.

Your sister who has skin in the game, is on a nondescript stage, a pro-temp, hypothetical dog eat dog genital expose genital and then eat it, and in Vegas, everything is a stage. A donkey, with a donkey dick, is led out, and it is docile. Christ, on Palm Sunday, rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, but he was an ass.