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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.”