The Clownish
Clan
by Albert Russo
The clan quarreled knocking
quite a few teeth coz they believed that the best
part oughta go to their nomadic leader.
Good Ole Abram showed
himself magnanimousey and said to them:
“Let him have what he wants, I’ll take
what remains. Thus and consequently, Lot settled
in the valley close to the city of Sodom. Wow, I
remember how that name stank.
The years went by - it was
supposed to be like half a century later or more
- Abram and his very wrinkled wifey Sarai still
had no children, which was a catastrofish,
coz if you remember, Goddess had ordered them to
multiply and fill the world with kiddies.
Apparently nowadays people
in Europe couldn’t care less about Her holy
commandments, on the contrary, they want less and
less children in their homes, on account that the
ladder make too much noise when the
adults watch TV or are busy, each secretly
searching for partner swapping on the Net, and
that their screams give them tummy aches during
their meals, then too, they cost an earth to
raise. This is called freedom of Nespression.
Oh, so you don’t get my clue! Try one of
them ladida stores that waft - woof woof
- the most delicious smell of roasted coffee and
you’ll want to stay hours in there, sipping
that hot star of nectars. And like gorgeous
Georgie Clownish - who isn’t really a clown,
even if sometimes acts like one -, says, ‘What
else!’, meaning that he much prefers to
spend his time there than wiping a baby’s
tushy and giving him a bath, before he has to put
him in the cot, singing some stupid lullaby to
shut him up, while he himself is dying to sleep,
on account that after spending three quarters of
the day shooting a film, he will have to take
care of the baby, while his beautiful feminist of
a wife is working late at her lawyer’s
office.
Hey, I’ve just learned
that the Clownies finally decided to have a baby.
Go figure what goes on in people’s minds.
A last ass-side,
whether you like it or not: during the long years
they lived together, Angie Jolie and her very
‘joli’ Bratty Pitch collected babies of
all colors like they were M&M’s. And now
that they are divorced, these poor kids -
actually they are very very rich; ain't it funny
to call someone poor when he has millions of
dollars kept in trust - are so frustrated that
they keep munching M&M’s all day long,
and that their parents are now suing the company
for producing irresistible rainbow-hued candie,
uh uh.
At this point Abram and
Sarai were older than May-fuse-salaam
and still had not produced any kiddies - hey,
have we become products like tomato Ketchup or
Nutella?
So, Goddess appeared to him
in a dream and repeated Her promise: “You
will have more children than the stars in our
galaxy.”
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