Ruth's Remarkable Parodies

More Ruth's Remarkable Parodies

Guten Tag, Cooleagues!

Ja, it's that time again, but today we're going to do something very odd indeed! Quite in opposition to the seedy, smoky cabaret culture in which we often find ourselves and where dissipation is the clearest badge of honor, even though we're still going to be thinking Germanic (or at least the "manic" part), today we are going for a clean-cut, wholesome image!

So, "Gut" I hear you mutter as you click your heels together, gently stroke your dueling scars and screw your monocles in one rotation deeper, but what exactly to do? Kein Problem! Just tie on your aprons, run out to one of the little rocks between us and LA or ... simply stand up in your offices, fling your arms wide, twirl around and around (but stop before you're sick) and join with me in lark-like splendor as we are all novice nuns for chust eine kleine Moment!

Ready? Cue the saccharine...

The halls are awash with a tide of t-shirts
The "Crush" is alive as in days of yore;
The shirts fill my ears with sound of money
And Dawn loves to count every buck we outpour.

The shirts are to raise worthy funds as you know
to help make needed dough.
Though to wear such a tee with a motto so bold when it
comes to the crunch
Is to stride through the school like a grape  that's
detached from the bunch.

I must wear my shirt when it comes to be Friday
Though I know I will hear what I’ve heard before;
My ears will soon ring with the words of my cooleagues
"We can’t take anymore!"

Julie has left the mountain.

Ruthie!