mlah The “culture” that has evolved here isn’t conducive to sissies

October 22, 2007

Rosie O’Donnell

Filed under: Humor,Politics — mlah @ 3:13 pm

Rosie by RobX

so this last weekend was fucked up.

i decided to do a little something different and went back to rothenberg to look for a chess set. i had seen a store there with some really nice sets and i wanted one, but it literally closed as i sat drinking a beer. so i thought i would go back and pick one up.

so there i was walking through the streets of rothenberg again. and lo. there in the distance i heard that voice. that grating whiny yell.

rosie o’donnell.

i can’t believe i saw fucking rosie o’donnell.

and she was holding court and talking trash about america, and bushco, to some eurotrash. and it had to happen. i considered giving her hell, but figured it would be better if i just moved on and did my shopping.

but no. it had to happen. she saw me. saw me in my levies and oklahoma tshirt. and she knew i was american.

and she pointed and yelled. there goes one. there goes an american white male. homophobe no doubt!

well i told her no. fags don’t scare me at all.

she was aghast. and she yelled. and her posse attacked. gucci handbags no doubt filled with snacks for rosie were flying. i thought it best to retreat.

but there was no retreat. to my shock, a plain white van sped up and skidded to a stop beside me, and a gaggle of screeching rosie drones pushed, and drug me into the van.

great i thought. i’m going to be the laughing stock of the male world. abducted by rosie fans.

but once inside the van i was knocked unconscious from behind.

then i woke. and i wasn’t in the van any longer. i was tied to a chair. i was in a room. no lights. except for a tv that was on. it was playing the flintstones. and it played it over and over.

once in a while it would switch to noam chomsky. or jane fonda aerobics.

it was hell.

and what is worse, they had my eyes pried open and wouldn’t let me sleep. it seems like it lasted months. occasionally, some ass would come in and inject me with something.

they kept saying too that they would give me a house. they would give me food.

i begged. i had to get back to work. they told me i didn’t need a job anymore. told me that i would do what they needed. that i would work for the people.

i asked if they were all the people?

they hit me.

when i came to, they were again injecting me with something.

and they had switched the tv to the view. all of the view with rosie on it.

but they let me eat

it was weird french food though. and i don’t mean fries. they had some chef in a suit, complete with hat flambe’ing something. it was sizzlin. but it was foreign to me. i just couldn’t bring myself to eat it! it was so horrible! no olive garden? no tomatoes?

it was hell.

they kept playing this crap song too from woodstock or somewhere. something like “mr president, how do you sleep?” it just kept going.

they kept me overnight.

they didn’t let me get in bed. but they showed me a nice bedroom. said that someday it would be all mine after i had learned. but that i had much relearning to do.

then they sent in the girls. these rather attractive little blonde girls. they held me down and kissed me. at first, i was like yeah! but then i detected the stench. and then the nasty breath. these girls who looked good across the room got closer and lost their appeal. they were unwashed and dirty. and they were all immaciated too. they needed to eat. they wanted to make smexxy time with me, but john henry was repugged by the odor and refused to make his appearance.

but then i saw a glimmer of light. i tiny sliver of light at the end of the hall as two skinny chicks and one french guy walked me to the bathroom.

i just took off running! running for the door. the three started yelling. yelling for help. something about individual free will, and i must be stopped! and i was shocked as i ran down the hall. room after room with people in them. all in a single chair. all with the view playing. teams of frenchmen preparing food off in a room on the right.

but rosie stepped from a door and barred my path. right in front of me. between me and the door.

oh, there was still a frenchman by the door. but the french don’t matter.

and rosie began to rant. and shriek in a high shrill wail. everyone else in the building i could see cowered and said yes rosie, you’re right!

not me. i had a full head of steam and high school fullback – linebacker was coming back to me!

i knocked her fat ass right the hell over.

everyone else gasped!

and that was the last i saw of the inside of gtless. but on the outside, in great big giant letters it said “liberals of one world government, stop working now!”. i jumped in a white van and ran down a gate. scads of frenchmen were throwing croissants at me! and they were oily! ah, the cholesterol could kill!

but i kept my head down and the window up!

i made it out!

i saw a train station and jumped the next train headed east. back to germany.

i have no idea where i was, except that it was in france. and that rosie was behind it all.

i made my way back to rothenberg and found my car. i got a ticket. but small price.

i just can’t believe there are secret liberal prisons in france.


  1. “But the French don’t matter”


    Comment by medium john — October 22, 2007 @ 3:42 pm

  2. You gotta lay of the croissants before bedtime. They’re giving you weird dreams.

    In sporting news: Go Sox! An amazing 1st inning has just concluded.

    Comment by Gus — October 24, 2007 @ 8:18 pm

  3. France is conservative now.

    Comment by Mark — November 6, 2007 @ 9:50 pm

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