BS"D
We have just obtained confirmation of an arson fire that resulted in black smoke passing over the Vatican. In addition, a 350 pound man dressed in a red shtreimel, green dress, and rubber boots was seen attempting to affix a "For Lease" sign to the front door of the Basilica of S. Peter and a sign marked "K'hal Adass Ganovim d'Vatican - Shygetz Aross" above a side door. His assistant was arrested for affixing a "St. Patrick's Day Pub Special" sign to the Papal Restroom, but he was mysteriously freed after the Vatican guards received a call explaining that this sign referred to the day of the ascent of the new Pope to the Porcelain Throne.
The Admou'r meCreedmoor has asked Mel Gibson and Pat Buchanan to join him on a special beis din of sonei Yisroel who will confirm the Admou"r's candidate for the papacy, namely Moshe Aryeh Friedman. The confirmation was postponed to Sunday as the Admou"r is in Venezuela to comfort those mourning for Hugo Chavez.
Friedman, who is in the midst of founding a new educational network for his children somewhere in the bowels of a public toilet in the Antwerp train station, cannot be reached for comment.
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
Monday, March 04, 2013
Matzois Arzei HaLevanoin - FAQs
BS"D
The response to our advertisement for Matzois Arzei HaLevanoin has been overwhelming. We are producing additional loads to meet demand.
We have received several questions which we would like to answer on behalf of our extinguished present and potential clientele:
1) Are these matzos eco-kosher?
The response to our advertisement for Matzois Arzei HaLevanoin has been overwhelming. We are producing additional loads to meet demand.
We have received several questions which we would like to answer on behalf of our extinguished present and potential clientele:
1) Are these matzos eco-kosher?
- Yes. We are very environmentally conscious. All of the cedars used to enrich our matzos were harvested using suicide bombers, whose remains were in turn processed into organic fertilizer. Their belts were processed into the glue that is used to keep these matzos together.
- These matzos are free of any taint of Zionism. They are sent by special courier to our authorized dealers, who are the only ones that handle the boxes until you buy them. We hope to have them available in major supermarkets throughout Teheran, as well as in the Natanz Nuclear World Mall, in time for Pesach.
- They are useful for repairing large holes in wooden and sheetrock walls. You can even use them in place of sheet metal for repairing rusted or corroded car fenders. Of course, you can soak them with kerosene and mount a poorly wired electrical device on each one if you are facing foreclosure but still have a good insurance policy. No adjuster will ever believe you used matzos to mount a light switch, so you'll get away with your very own insurance adjustment.
- Certainly. Creedmoor will release a new wine just in time for Pesach. It is called Candeggina Bianca di Tutti Bianchi and it has a low alcohol content. This delicious Italian wine is under the supervision of the Beis Din Tzedek of the Vatican, and it will be released later this week when we confirm the choice of the Creedmoorer candidate for the papacy, the one and only Moshe Aryeh Friedman.
- Four, to symbolize the Arba Misois Beis Din. We keep the prices low so you'll be able to afford all the matzos you need, as well as any necessary medical treatment related to consumption of these matzos.
- Certainly. We want our workers to be part of the whole Pesach experience, so we treat them the way Paroi treated slaves. All of our workers are illegal aliens who cannot find employment elsewhere because the evil Zionist regime in the Domain of the Great Satan does not allow them to work. We give them an opportunity to serve as unpaid laborers for our matzos, which taste much like the bricks that Bnei Yisroel made in Mitzrayim. The mashgichim are quick to physically discipline any worker who makes so much as one mistake, and pay is docked routinely for the most minor infraction. This is how we keep our expenses down and our quality high. Our average worker is indebted to us for $8,000 for penalties as well as for assistance with immigration papers. We are proud to be the first factory outside of China to earn the "Sweatshop Seal," which is awarded only to those factories that truly get the most out of each of their workers.
Sunday, March 03, 2013
Matzois Arzei haLevanoin - Free of Zionist Ingredients
BS"D
This year, thanks to a special deal between the Admou"r meCreedmoor and his Hezbollah buddies, Creedmoor Mehadreck Mart is offering:
This year, thanks to a special deal between the Admou"r meCreedmoor and his Hezbollah buddies, Creedmoor Mehadreck Mart is offering:
Matzois Arzei haLevanoin!
These matzois are made with Malaysian rubber-wood chips and enriched with real Lebanese cedar sawdust for a taste you'll never forget! The Admou"r obtained enough sawdust for over 10,000 pounds of matzo by exchanging it for 18,000 gallons of year-old galle.
They are gluten-free, wheat-free, lactose-free, taste-free and certified 100 percent indigestible. These matzos are under the kashrus supervision of the Creedmoorer Rabbinical Council and Moshe Aryeh Friedman, and they have earned the approval of the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (B(D)S) movement as they use only 100 percent anti-Zionist ingredients.
Only a limited amount of Matzois Arzei haLevanoin are available this year, so order fast.
Price: 804.50 food stamps per pound. We accept Iranian rials at the daily rate of exchange, and for a limited time we will accept US dollars at the rate of $1.86 to the food stamp.
Available from:
Mehadreck Mart, Creedmoor
Moshe Aryeh Friedman, Antwerp
Elchonon Beck, London
Srool-Doovid Weiss, Monsey
Billy Mo Weberman - Williamsburgh
Otisville Commissary (Federal Kollel Grocery)
Solomon Dwrek- (Ess Dwek Deli - Moser Kosher Foods) - Cumberland FCI, Maryland
Available from:
Mehadreck Mart, Creedmoor
Moshe Aryeh Friedman, Antwerp
Elchonon Beck, London
Srool-Doovid Weiss, Monsey
Billy Mo Weberman - Williamsburgh
Otisville Commissary (Federal Kollel Grocery)
Solomon Dwrek- (Ess Dwek Deli - Moser Kosher Foods) - Cumberland FCI, Maryland
Monday, February 18, 2013
Moshe Aryeh Friedman is Not Dead
BS"D
There are rumors that Moshe Aryeh Friedman removed himself from this world last week. These rumors are completely unfounded.
Other rumors claim he is in Manchester, home of senior Ku Klutz Karta kleagle (or kigel) Ahron Cohen, the Szarkonosvary Rov. These are also incorrect. He remains in Antwerp, to the chagrin of the respected community of that city.
What we are now trying to confirm is whether he has arrived in Rome yet to claim the papacy, or whether a proxy will accept the office in his stead.
More in time for Peerim.
There are rumors that Moshe Aryeh Friedman removed himself from this world last week. These rumors are completely unfounded.
Other rumors claim he is in Manchester, home of senior Ku Klutz Karta kleagle (or kigel) Ahron Cohen, the Szarkonosvary Rov. These are also incorrect. He remains in Antwerp, to the chagrin of the respected community of that city.
What we are now trying to confirm is whether he has arrived in Rome yet to claim the papacy, or whether a proxy will accept the office in his stead.
More in time for Peerim.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Will Moshe Aryeh Friedman Be the Next Pope?
BS"D
The staff of Der Shygetz/The Creedmoor Chronicles is busy fabricating and investigating rumors regarding the imminent confirmation of the appointment of Moshe Aryeh Friedman to the papacy. His candidacy was endorsed by a mysterious Cardinal Davide Stronzetto de Menuvallo, who somehow turned the Vatican into an EU member state and registered it as having over forty million unemployed and disabled residents. Cardinal de Menuvallo, who claims to represent the Archdiocese of Acqua di Candeggina in Sardinia, was spotted wearing a red macaw-feather shtreimel-like headdress and little else while disrobing and performing exotic dances in front of the Vatican with EU observers observing the scene.
It is believed Friedman will take the name Pope Malediction the First, and that he and the mysterious cardinal will extend Vatican rule to the tzioinish medine. It is also believed that a bissel tryfe gelt, perhaps a few trillion Euros, might be all it takes to remove the new pope and his protector.
We await more news regarding this most auspicious and fictitious event as well as final information on where the Friedman children will be learning this Peerim zman. Will the Friedman clan be enrolled in a new Catholic school directed by the Pope himself, or will they begin classes in a new madrassa financed by food stamps?
We do know that Moshe Aryeh Friedman is presently holed up in the janitorial closet of the Bnos Soro Seminary in Antwerpen, which now bears a hand-lettered sign saying "Grand Yeshiva of Kehillas Sharia d'Antverp." Our reporters are trying to enter the closet at present but it barely has room even for one little noxious crawling insect from Williamsburgh.
The staff of Der Shygetz/The Creedmoor Chronicles is busy fabricating and investigating rumors regarding the imminent confirmation of the appointment of Moshe Aryeh Friedman to the papacy. His candidacy was endorsed by a mysterious Cardinal Davide Stronzetto de Menuvallo, who somehow turned the Vatican into an EU member state and registered it as having over forty million unemployed and disabled residents. Cardinal de Menuvallo, who claims to represent the Archdiocese of Acqua di Candeggina in Sardinia, was spotted wearing a red macaw-feather shtreimel-like headdress and little else while disrobing and performing exotic dances in front of the Vatican with EU observers observing the scene.
It is believed Friedman will take the name Pope Malediction the First, and that he and the mysterious cardinal will extend Vatican rule to the tzioinish medine. It is also believed that a bissel tryfe gelt, perhaps a few trillion Euros, might be all it takes to remove the new pope and his protector.
We await more news regarding this most auspicious and fictitious event as well as final information on where the Friedman children will be learning this Peerim zman. Will the Friedman clan be enrolled in a new Catholic school directed by the Pope himself, or will they begin classes in a new madrassa financed by food stamps?
We do know that Moshe Aryeh Friedman is presently holed up in the janitorial closet of the Bnos Soro Seminary in Antwerpen, which now bears a hand-lettered sign saying "Grand Yeshiva of Kehillas Sharia d'Antverp." Our reporters are trying to enter the closet at present but it barely has room even for one little noxious crawling insect from Williamsburgh.
Thursday, February 07, 2013
Moshe Aryeh Friedman Coverage to Resume
BS"D
http://www.vosizneias.com/123454/2013/02/06/antwerp-judge-rules-belz-not-obligated-to-acccept-friedman-boys-at-belgian-girls-school
Now that the issue has been settled in the Belgian courts, we at Creedmoor can reveal just how the Admou"r meCreedmoor is making sure the Friedman boys have the chinuch (or chenek) they need to follow in their father's puny footsteps.
Justice has been served, but the Admou"r meCreedmoor has dedicated his life to evading justice and making sure his few non-virtual Chassidim do the same. Moshe Aryeh Friedman, the Creedmoor-Antwerp Rov, will never submit to the rule of Zionist Belgian judges!
More coming before Shabbos.
(NB: Just in case the reprehensible little twerp wants to sue me, I must mention that all posts on this blog regarding Moshe Aryeh Friedman are fiction, with the exception of any links posted to reliable news sources. I must also mention that unfortunately, Moshe Aryeh Friedman is not a fictional character.)
http://www.vosizneias.com/123454/2013/02/06/antwerp-judge-rules-belz-not-obligated-to-acccept-friedman-boys-at-belgian-girls-school
Now that the issue has been settled in the Belgian courts, we at Creedmoor can reveal just how the Admou"r meCreedmoor is making sure the Friedman boys have the chinuch (or chenek) they need to follow in their father's puny footsteps.
Justice has been served, but the Admou"r meCreedmoor has dedicated his life to evading justice and making sure his few non-virtual Chassidim do the same. Moshe Aryeh Friedman, the Creedmoor-Antwerp Rov, will never submit to the rule of Zionist Belgian judges!
More coming before Shabbos.
(NB: Just in case the reprehensible little twerp wants to sue me, I must mention that all posts on this blog regarding Moshe Aryeh Friedman are fiction, with the exception of any links posted to reliable news sources. I must also mention that unfortunately, Moshe Aryeh Friedman is not a fictional character.)
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Moshe Aryeh Friedman Fundraises for Seminary - Part 4
BS"D
Reb Berish Lowenstein's cellphone showed no fewer than 78 missed calls, at least 12 of which were from his own home. He became suspicious when he realized that 16 of them were from his daughter's seminary principal, and he wondered why Rebbetzin Soro would call him and not his wife if chas vesholom his daughter was in some sort of trouble. She knew he was abroad, and she would rarely call him directly unless it was an emergency. The others were from neighbors, and he wondered what could be amiss on his usually quiet and stately block.
He checked his voicemail, and all he could decipher was one message from his usually calm next-door neighbor, Reb Nachman Lichtfeld. "The meshigginer, that Friedman, he says you gave him gelt and I should too. He's in chyrem, for what should I give him gelt? I know you didn't give him a cent, but what can I do? He's wearing a wig and a dress, who you know in the police that can maybe have him put in a byse-mishegoyim? He wants collect for his own seminary tuition, nebach, so crazy!"
Before he even thought to call anyone in Antwerp, Reb Berish called directory assistance and asked for the number to Creedmoor Psychiatric Center. He dialed that number, and asked to speak to the Jewish chaplain. He remembered that Friedman had admitted to spending some time at the notorious facility, and he suspected that when it came to his past hospitalizations, the minuscule menace was telling the truth for once. His brother-in-law was well-connected with politicians, and he figured he could somehow get Friedman deported from Belgium and taken right off the plane to Creedmoor if he could prove that Friedman was indeed of Creedmoor provenance.
Little did Reb Berish Lowenstein, an honest and well-meaning askan, know what was in store when the overworked and underskilled receptionist connected him, accidentally or purposely, to none other than the Admou"r meCreedmoor.
---to be continued tomorrow---
Reb Berish Lowenstein's cellphone showed no fewer than 78 missed calls, at least 12 of which were from his own home. He became suspicious when he realized that 16 of them were from his daughter's seminary principal, and he wondered why Rebbetzin Soro would call him and not his wife if chas vesholom his daughter was in some sort of trouble. She knew he was abroad, and she would rarely call him directly unless it was an emergency. The others were from neighbors, and he wondered what could be amiss on his usually quiet and stately block.
He checked his voicemail, and all he could decipher was one message from his usually calm next-door neighbor, Reb Nachman Lichtfeld. "The meshigginer, that Friedman, he says you gave him gelt and I should too. He's in chyrem, for what should I give him gelt? I know you didn't give him a cent, but what can I do? He's wearing a wig and a dress, who you know in the police that can maybe have him put in a byse-mishegoyim? He wants collect for his own seminary tuition, nebach, so crazy!"
Before he even thought to call anyone in Antwerp, Reb Berish called directory assistance and asked for the number to Creedmoor Psychiatric Center. He dialed that number, and asked to speak to the Jewish chaplain. He remembered that Friedman had admitted to spending some time at the notorious facility, and he suspected that when it came to his past hospitalizations, the minuscule menace was telling the truth for once. His brother-in-law was well-connected with politicians, and he figured he could somehow get Friedman deported from Belgium and taken right off the plane to Creedmoor if he could prove that Friedman was indeed of Creedmoor provenance.
Little did Reb Berish Lowenstein, an honest and well-meaning askan, know what was in store when the overworked and underskilled receptionist connected him, accidentally or purposely, to none other than the Admou"r meCreedmoor.
---to be continued tomorrow---
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Moshe Aryeh Friedman Coverage Resumes Tomorrow
BS"D
http://www.vosizneias.com/122691/2013/01/28/antwerp-belgian-court-denies-friedman-girls-entry-to-boys-yeshiva-grandmothers-seeking-custody-of-children
Needless to say, the intrepid and decrepit Moshe Aryeh Friedman did not take this decision lightly, lightweight though he is. Find out tomorrow just how Moshe Aryeh Friedman plans to handle the chinuch of his children and thousands of other Yiddishe kinder...................with the help of a Rebbe who has been under mothballs for quite some time now!
http://www.vosizneias.com/122691/2013/01/28/antwerp-belgian-court-denies-friedman-girls-entry-to-boys-yeshiva-grandmothers-seeking-custody-of-children
Needless to say, the intrepid and decrepit Moshe Aryeh Friedman did not take this decision lightly, lightweight though he is. Find out tomorrow just how Moshe Aryeh Friedman plans to handle the chinuch of his children and thousands of other Yiddishe kinder...................with the help of a Rebbe who has been under mothballs for quite some time now!
Monday, January 14, 2013
Pesach Cruise with Moshe Aryeh Friedman
BS"D
Creedmoor Cruises, the travel fraud division of Moisdos Creedmoor veShaar Marin Bishin, is proud to announce that its Ignoramus-in-Residence for this year's Pesach Gala Garbage Barge Cruise Up the River will be the one and only, and boorich Hashyme that he is the one and only:
Seats begin at $300 for a tire attached to a rope made of certified non-Zionist hemp from an eco-kosher sustainable and smokable hemp plantation. Seats end as soon as the rope breaks or as soon as Friedman is thrown overboard.
Creedmoor Cruises accepts EBT cards at 65 cents on the dollar and Iranian rials at 50,000 to the dollar. Reserve now, as this cruise promises to be at least as successful as Friedman.
Creedmoor Cruises, the travel fraud division of Moisdos Creedmoor veShaar Marin Bishin, is proud to announce that its Ignoramus-in-Residence for this year's Pesach Gala Garbage Barge Cruise Up the River will be the one and only, and boorich Hashyme that he is the one and only:
Rabbi Moshe Aryeh Friedman Sheyirfa"sh
Rabbi Friedman will share his deep insights on such topics as:
- Life in Cherem
- Romantic Dinners with Ahmadinejad
- Loving Memories of Jorg Haider
- Mixed-Gender Education in Antwerp
- Single-Sex Marriage in Iran
Seats begin at $300 for a tire attached to a rope made of certified non-Zionist hemp from an eco-kosher sustainable and smokable hemp plantation. Seats end as soon as the rope breaks or as soon as Friedman is thrown overboard.
Creedmoor Cruises accepts EBT cards at 65 cents on the dollar and Iranian rials at 50,000 to the dollar. Reserve now, as this cruise promises to be at least as successful as Friedman.
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
Moshe Aryeh Friedman Collects for Seminary Tuition (Part 3)
BS"D
"Mustafa, you can maybe take me to the rich people, who give money, and not to the airport? Feldstein he is stupid, he send me to airport because he think I can collect there."
Mustafa Asad Fareed and Moshe Aryeh Friedman resembled each other not only in name, but also in moral fiber. Fareed was a Pakistani cabbie who made his living taking meshuluchim to homes in Antwerp, even though he was a fervent supporter of Islamic radicals. Since 60 Euro was three times the fare needed to bring his passenger to the Jewish residential district of Antwerp, Fareed was more than happy to ignore his order to take Friedman to the airport.
Instead, Friedman arrived on the doorstep of Reb Berish and Chave Byla Lowenstein's home, a few moments after Malki came home from seminary, accompanied by her friend Tamar.
"Shulem alychen. I am Avrohom Yeshiye Heschel Yekusiel Yehide Yitzchok Myer Yissochor DovBer HaCohen Lowenstein, but Reb Berish, or even if you like Fetter Berish, is fine with me." The watch importer, a native of Williamsburgh who had moved to Antwerp after marriage, was named for four relatives who perished in the war, each of whom was named for a famous Rebbe. "You are very welcome here whenever you want to come. I have to fly to the States tonight and I will be back just in time for Shabbos, but my wife, Chava Byle, and of course Malki and her sisters, will show you around."
Suddenly, the doorbell rang repeatedly. Reb Berish said: "Oy, it is always stuck." He called to his sons: "Yossel, Shmilu, you think one of you can fix the bell? The key to my tool chest is in my desk if you want to try tonight, or just call someone tomorrow morning before you leave for yeshiva."
This time, however, the doorbell was not stuck. It was being pressed repeatedly by an intercontinental perennial nudnik who had made himself a pariah in Antwerp after only a few months of residence there. What's more, he was wearing what appeared to be a dress.
Unfortunately, Reb Berish was not wearing his glasses, as he had rushed downstairs to welcome Tamar. He looked through the peephole of his majestic oak door and saw only a blurry, bedraggled figure.
"Someone please bring me at least ten Euro, or if someone wants to do a mitzvah, please come here. I left everything upstairs."
Reb Berish opened the door, to his great chagrin. Immediately recognizing Friedman, he angrily blurted out:
"Moishele Friedman? In a dress? Today is not Peerim, but I guess you wanted to look in place over at Bnois Yerushalayim. What may I seruv you? My wife makes an excellent Viennese cherem cake, you know..."
"I am fundraising for seminary tuition. I want to become a teacher from girls, they should know more from how to fight the evils of segregation, tzioinis, and everything. Maybe you can give me 100 Euro and lend me another 3,000?"
Reb Berish Lowenstein looked as if he was about to land his entire six feet, two inches of height and two hundred and twenty pounds of weight on the minuscule Friedman's shpitzel-covered head:
"Friedman, seminary? Or cemetery? It doesn't matter much because no one is burying you anywhere but in the Muslim cemetery, and maybe they have a place where you can learn to teach girls.. You belong in Sing Sing, no, really in Creedmoor, you meshigginer, you menivel, you shtickel po......you know what Creedmoor is?"
"Sure, Reb Yid. I was there when I was a kid. Dr. Weinberg, Rabbi Goldman..."
"You were really once in Creedmoor? I am not surprised. Rabbi Goldman, this is the chaplain there? I will call him and see if you were really there, because maybe you can be sent back. Meanwhile, get off my property, or I'll do my kappoores early this year with a fruitcake instead of a chicken!" The door slammed shut.
Little did Reb Berish know that Dr. Weinberg had left Creedmoor ages ago, and that "Rabbi Goldman" was an old alias for a self-appointed Rebbe who was hardly the chaplain there. So, he made a mental note to himself to call Rabbi Goldman at Creedmoor if he bumped into Friedman again upon his return from his business trip.
---to be continued----
"Mustafa, you can maybe take me to the rich people, who give money, and not to the airport? Feldstein he is stupid, he send me to airport because he think I can collect there."
Mustafa Asad Fareed and Moshe Aryeh Friedman resembled each other not only in name, but also in moral fiber. Fareed was a Pakistani cabbie who made his living taking meshuluchim to homes in Antwerp, even though he was a fervent supporter of Islamic radicals. Since 60 Euro was three times the fare needed to bring his passenger to the Jewish residential district of Antwerp, Fareed was more than happy to ignore his order to take Friedman to the airport.
Instead, Friedman arrived on the doorstep of Reb Berish and Chave Byla Lowenstein's home, a few moments after Malki came home from seminary, accompanied by her friend Tamar.
"Shulem alychen. I am Avrohom Yeshiye Heschel Yekusiel Yehide Yitzchok Myer Yissochor DovBer HaCohen Lowenstein, but Reb Berish, or even if you like Fetter Berish, is fine with me." The watch importer, a native of Williamsburgh who had moved to Antwerp after marriage, was named for four relatives who perished in the war, each of whom was named for a famous Rebbe. "You are very welcome here whenever you want to come. I have to fly to the States tonight and I will be back just in time for Shabbos, but my wife, Chava Byle, and of course Malki and her sisters, will show you around."
Suddenly, the doorbell rang repeatedly. Reb Berish said: "Oy, it is always stuck." He called to his sons: "Yossel, Shmilu, you think one of you can fix the bell? The key to my tool chest is in my desk if you want to try tonight, or just call someone tomorrow morning before you leave for yeshiva."
This time, however, the doorbell was not stuck. It was being pressed repeatedly by an intercontinental perennial nudnik who had made himself a pariah in Antwerp after only a few months of residence there. What's more, he was wearing what appeared to be a dress.
Unfortunately, Reb Berish was not wearing his glasses, as he had rushed downstairs to welcome Tamar. He looked through the peephole of his majestic oak door and saw only a blurry, bedraggled figure.
"Someone please bring me at least ten Euro, or if someone wants to do a mitzvah, please come here. I left everything upstairs."
Reb Berish opened the door, to his great chagrin. Immediately recognizing Friedman, he angrily blurted out:
"Moishele Friedman? In a dress? Today is not Peerim, but I guess you wanted to look in place over at Bnois Yerushalayim. What may I seruv you? My wife makes an excellent Viennese cherem cake, you know..."
"I am fundraising for seminary tuition. I want to become a teacher from girls, they should know more from how to fight the evils of segregation, tzioinis, and everything. Maybe you can give me 100 Euro and lend me another 3,000?"
Reb Berish Lowenstein looked as if he was about to land his entire six feet, two inches of height and two hundred and twenty pounds of weight on the minuscule Friedman's shpitzel-covered head:
"Friedman, seminary? Or cemetery? It doesn't matter much because no one is burying you anywhere but in the Muslim cemetery, and maybe they have a place where you can learn to teach girls.. You belong in Sing Sing, no, really in Creedmoor, you meshigginer, you menivel, you shtickel po......you know what Creedmoor is?"
"Sure, Reb Yid. I was there when I was a kid. Dr. Weinberg, Rabbi Goldman..."
"You were really once in Creedmoor? I am not surprised. Rabbi Goldman, this is the chaplain there? I will call him and see if you were really there, because maybe you can be sent back. Meanwhile, get off my property, or I'll do my kappoores early this year with a fruitcake instead of a chicken!" The door slammed shut.
Little did Reb Berish know that Dr. Weinberg had left Creedmoor ages ago, and that "Rabbi Goldman" was an old alias for a self-appointed Rebbe who was hardly the chaplain there. So, he made a mental note to himself to call Rabbi Goldman at Creedmoor if he bumped into Friedman again upon his return from his business trip.
---to be continued----
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Moshe Aryeh Friedman Goes to Seminary: Part 2
BS"D
Malki Lowenstein could not have been more different from Tamar Moshashvili, and it was Malki upon whom both Rebbetzin Goldman and Tamar herself relied to keep Tamar out of trouble.
"Tamar, I am going to call Malki, she's wasting her time in class today anyway because she knows more about the parsha than Mrs. Lichtman, and I don't understand why I haven't been to her vort yet. Meanwhile, we have to do something about that phone, don't we. Maybe my son-in-law Yankel will give you something for it. He'll be here in a minute!"
For Tamar, this seemed like the Game Over message on one of the games she had played on her new phone. She did not have to wait long for Yankel to arrive.
"So, what is this I saw in the basement, I heard noise, and I saw Friedman the Freak down there! So I start to sing: "Moishe Aryeye Friedman, chomor di, eisel di, menivel di. Vus a shygetz tit do in Antverp...." His mother-in-law immediately recognized the Belzer nigun "Omor Reb Akiva, ashreicheim Yisroel..ma mikveh metaher.."
"YANKEL! That is a hylige niggin, where do you get such words!"
"Shvigger, where did you get Friedman? This is a GIRLS' seminary, isn't it - and where did he get that ugly dress?"
"The same place Miss Moshashvili got this phone here, I guess - from a store window."
Yankel, a large and burly, but gentle, man, brandished an owner's manual and bellowed: "Serial number 3685952. Manufactured 10 November 2012. Missing since motzoei shabbos parshas Vayero when my window somehow broke, right?"
Tamar Moshashvili shook as she spurted out: "Mister, you can have it back. The adapter is at home. 5 Vielge, third floor. The door is open. My mother drinks and sleeps all the time so just go in and do what you want."
"Miss, I don't turn Jews in to the police, but I had one more day before I had to make an insurance claim, so you are very lucky. Now, you don't look like a phone thief to me, so maybe you want to tell me who got you this phone? I wish it were Friedman because him I'm allowed to moiser, or maybe I could just break his beitzim with a nutcracker, but Friedman didn't rob my store because he wouldn't know which way to swing a hammer.."
"YANKEL! With a nutcracker you break eggs? There are girls around here! You want they should get confused when they cook for their husbands?" his mother-in-law scolded.
"Friedman's eggs I break with a nutcracker. Burich Hashem, you taught Rochele well and she knows how to break a chicken's egg, for what I need to know how to do it? I open a refrigerator in my store, I show it to the baleboste, ten percent off I give her, she buys, I take home the gelt. At home for what I should open a refrigerator?"
Rebbetzin Goldman was about to berate her son-in-law again for his inappropriate display of humor in her seminary, but Malki Lowenstein showed up in the middle of the chaos. She saw the burly electronics dealer confronting Tamar, and immediately asked: "Are you in trouble, Tami? We'll work it out."
Malki was actually quite petite, smaller even than Moshe Aryeh Friedman, but she was hardly intimidated by Reb Yankel's bulky form. After all, she was a daughter of one of the finest families in Antwerp, and her married sisters, all of whom resembled her, bought plenty of appliances from his store.
Reb Yankel turned around, and asked her: "Your name I don't know, but I think you have a sister Mrs. Berkowitz, maybe another one let me think..her husband is Berel Cohen, your father wholesales Swiss watches, and your brother, he likes computers and he wants to learn to play keyboard..."
"Yes, that is us, and thank you for always helping by giving us prizes for our chesed drives. Did someone call Hatzoloh?" She knew Reb Yankel was a Hatzoloh volunteer from the two-way radio he carried.
"No, but someone has a phone she wants to give back to me. And there is a freak from Vienna downstairs!"
"A freak from Vienna? My father says that there is a creature from Vienna that swims in the sewers here, and if my little brother doesn't behave, he'll feed him to the Viennese sewer monster. So he's for real?"
"This one can't eat your brother, and my shvigger she'll kill me if I said what he does eat in front of you and your friend. He looks like he came from the sewer, that's for sure. A house coat he wears, so ugly I'd be embarrassed even if my 95-year-old baabe who can hardly see anymore wears a thing like that! Now, forget Friedman and back to the phone. Your friend here says she got a 900-Euro phone from my store as a gift, but someone forgot to pay for it. I'm missing six more, not so good like this, but worth 400 Euro each."
"Rebbetzin Goldman, what is going on here? Friedman? Which Friedman? Downstairs?"
"Malki, yes, a man named Friedman entered this building by mistake and is resting downstairs with Mr. Igor the new janitor. He'll be gone soon. Tamar, please tell my son-in-law how he can get his six phones back and his window fixed."
"Tamar," Malki pleaded, "please tell Reb Yankel everything. I will get you money from my father if you have to pay him back, but please, my mother wants you to stay with us at least every Shabbos. She really doesn't mind. We have two extra rooms and everything you need.."
"Mr. Goldman!" "No, your principal is my wife's mother, not mine, my name is Mr. Feldstein." "My, my brother stole your phones. But he's not working alone. He probably doesn't have the phones anymore. This phone he gave me, I really don't even know where your store is and I try to make a better life for myself so I don't do nothing with my brother and his friends. I didn't steal it, but I believe you that it's yours. If you beat up Friedman, my brother and his friends will respect you and pay you back. Otherwise, I love Malki but I can't take money to pay you for what I didn't do!"
"Tamar is your name, yes? I am not street trash. I don't beat anyone up, not even Friedman. And I know you did not do it, even though you knew that phone wasn't paid for. Just give me back what you have, and that's it. Please come by my store if you need help; I know everyone in town. But I have to go to the police tomorrow, or I don't get insurance. Times are hard, and I can't lose money right now. If your brother drops off the phones or the money tomorrow before I guess about five when the day police shift ends, I won't say a word, and I won't even charge for the window unless he tries anything again. Friedman is another story. He'll get his own tuches in jail without my having to go there with him for beating up a sewer rat."
And who entered but Moshe Aryeh Friedman, minus his shpitzel but still dressed in a house coat, that was now ripped along the side as he had snagged it on a shelf peg in the basement.
"So these are two from my classmates? And who is this?" He turned to Reb Yankel: "Mister, shygetz aross, this is a girl's seminary. I'm Masha Esther Friedman, you are Tamar, and you are?" Friedman turned to Malki with a moronic grin on his face.
"I am Malka, my last name you don't need to know, and you are not Masha Esther Friedman. You are Moshe Aryeh Friedman, and yes, I heard your sons go to school with my two youngest sisters."
"MALKI! You've gone meshigge now too? What are you talking about? Your sisters have no boys in their school!"
Malki did not have to say a word. Reb Yankel pulled out a newspaper and handed it to his shvigger: "Shvigger, I know you don't read the papers, but this is one week you should. Moshe Aryeh Friedman has enrolled his sons in Bnos Yerushalayim, thanks to the courts and his menivel ideas. I should maybe sell his wife a washing machine on credit so she can run him through it the way his mother did when he was a baby.."
"Yankel, you have what paper there? From last Peerim? Hold on, I am getting my glasses so I can read this!"
"It's Sunday's Flemish paper. You know I advertise in there every week, so I get a copy in the store. Read it sitting down, Shvigger! I don't want you to fall or faint when you read it. It is true."
She quickly read and understood the article: "That does NOT mean that MISTER Friedman can register here though. This is a private school. Yankel, maybe you want to take him to the beis mishegoyim, or the zoo?"
Tamar had the last word: "There's no rat cage in Antwerp Zoo. I can flush his.."
"Tamar, STOP RIGHT NOW and please listen to your friend. You need to spend time in a real Yiddishe hyme. Go home with her tonight. You're a nice girl and you need to live like one so you can learn to act and talk like one. You know where she lives, you can just walk there after the last class. Friedman needs to spend time somewhere far, far away, because he is not going to set foot in a classroom here!"
Little Friedman piped up: "Tomor'l, shyne mydel, why your brother so angry at me? I can to help him so much, he wants to make big money in Gaza, in Iran...."
Rebbetzin Goldman nearly screamed: "Tamar and Malki, go back to parsha class. No need for you to hear such shtissim. Yankel, can you take Friedman somewhere in your car?
"Shvigger, Friedman might as well be in cherem. I can't be seen with him. I didn't drive here anyway, my car is in the shop and you know I don't like to ride a bicycle, so I took a taxi. Here's 60 Euro. I am calling a cab to take him out of town."
----to be continued tomorrow---
Malki Lowenstein could not have been more different from Tamar Moshashvili, and it was Malki upon whom both Rebbetzin Goldman and Tamar herself relied to keep Tamar out of trouble.
"Tamar, I am going to call Malki, she's wasting her time in class today anyway because she knows more about the parsha than Mrs. Lichtman, and I don't understand why I haven't been to her vort yet. Meanwhile, we have to do something about that phone, don't we. Maybe my son-in-law Yankel will give you something for it. He'll be here in a minute!"
For Tamar, this seemed like the Game Over message on one of the games she had played on her new phone. She did not have to wait long for Yankel to arrive.
"So, what is this I saw in the basement, I heard noise, and I saw Friedman the Freak down there! So I start to sing: "Moishe Aryeye Friedman, chomor di, eisel di, menivel di. Vus a shygetz tit do in Antverp...." His mother-in-law immediately recognized the Belzer nigun "Omor Reb Akiva, ashreicheim Yisroel..ma mikveh metaher.."
"YANKEL! That is a hylige niggin, where do you get such words!"
"Shvigger, where did you get Friedman? This is a GIRLS' seminary, isn't it - and where did he get that ugly dress?"
"The same place Miss Moshashvili got this phone here, I guess - from a store window."
Yankel, a large and burly, but gentle, man, brandished an owner's manual and bellowed: "Serial number 3685952. Manufactured 10 November 2012. Missing since motzoei shabbos parshas Vayero when my window somehow broke, right?"
Tamar Moshashvili shook as she spurted out: "Mister, you can have it back. The adapter is at home. 5 Vielge, third floor. The door is open. My mother drinks and sleeps all the time so just go in and do what you want."
"Miss, I don't turn Jews in to the police, but I had one more day before I had to make an insurance claim, so you are very lucky. Now, you don't look like a phone thief to me, so maybe you want to tell me who got you this phone? I wish it were Friedman because him I'm allowed to moiser, or maybe I could just break his beitzim with a nutcracker, but Friedman didn't rob my store because he wouldn't know which way to swing a hammer.."
"YANKEL! With a nutcracker you break eggs? There are girls around here! You want they should get confused when they cook for their husbands?" his mother-in-law scolded.
"Friedman's eggs I break with a nutcracker. Burich Hashem, you taught Rochele well and she knows how to break a chicken's egg, for what I need to know how to do it? I open a refrigerator in my store, I show it to the baleboste, ten percent off I give her, she buys, I take home the gelt. At home for what I should open a refrigerator?"
Rebbetzin Goldman was about to berate her son-in-law again for his inappropriate display of humor in her seminary, but Malki Lowenstein showed up in the middle of the chaos. She saw the burly electronics dealer confronting Tamar, and immediately asked: "Are you in trouble, Tami? We'll work it out."
Malki was actually quite petite, smaller even than Moshe Aryeh Friedman, but she was hardly intimidated by Reb Yankel's bulky form. After all, she was a daughter of one of the finest families in Antwerp, and her married sisters, all of whom resembled her, bought plenty of appliances from his store.
Reb Yankel turned around, and asked her: "Your name I don't know, but I think you have a sister Mrs. Berkowitz, maybe another one let me think..her husband is Berel Cohen, your father wholesales Swiss watches, and your brother, he likes computers and he wants to learn to play keyboard..."
"Yes, that is us, and thank you for always helping by giving us prizes for our chesed drives. Did someone call Hatzoloh?" She knew Reb Yankel was a Hatzoloh volunteer from the two-way radio he carried.
"No, but someone has a phone she wants to give back to me. And there is a freak from Vienna downstairs!"
"A freak from Vienna? My father says that there is a creature from Vienna that swims in the sewers here, and if my little brother doesn't behave, he'll feed him to the Viennese sewer monster. So he's for real?"
"This one can't eat your brother, and my shvigger she'll kill me if I said what he does eat in front of you and your friend. He looks like he came from the sewer, that's for sure. A house coat he wears, so ugly I'd be embarrassed even if my 95-year-old baabe who can hardly see anymore wears a thing like that! Now, forget Friedman and back to the phone. Your friend here says she got a 900-Euro phone from my store as a gift, but someone forgot to pay for it. I'm missing six more, not so good like this, but worth 400 Euro each."
"Rebbetzin Goldman, what is going on here? Friedman? Which Friedman? Downstairs?"
"Malki, yes, a man named Friedman entered this building by mistake and is resting downstairs with Mr. Igor the new janitor. He'll be gone soon. Tamar, please tell my son-in-law how he can get his six phones back and his window fixed."
"Tamar," Malki pleaded, "please tell Reb Yankel everything. I will get you money from my father if you have to pay him back, but please, my mother wants you to stay with us at least every Shabbos. She really doesn't mind. We have two extra rooms and everything you need.."
"Mr. Goldman!" "No, your principal is my wife's mother, not mine, my name is Mr. Feldstein." "My, my brother stole your phones. But he's not working alone. He probably doesn't have the phones anymore. This phone he gave me, I really don't even know where your store is and I try to make a better life for myself so I don't do nothing with my brother and his friends. I didn't steal it, but I believe you that it's yours. If you beat up Friedman, my brother and his friends will respect you and pay you back. Otherwise, I love Malki but I can't take money to pay you for what I didn't do!"
"Tamar is your name, yes? I am not street trash. I don't beat anyone up, not even Friedman. And I know you did not do it, even though you knew that phone wasn't paid for. Just give me back what you have, and that's it. Please come by my store if you need help; I know everyone in town. But I have to go to the police tomorrow, or I don't get insurance. Times are hard, and I can't lose money right now. If your brother drops off the phones or the money tomorrow before I guess about five when the day police shift ends, I won't say a word, and I won't even charge for the window unless he tries anything again. Friedman is another story. He'll get his own tuches in jail without my having to go there with him for beating up a sewer rat."
And who entered but Moshe Aryeh Friedman, minus his shpitzel but still dressed in a house coat, that was now ripped along the side as he had snagged it on a shelf peg in the basement.
"So these are two from my classmates? And who is this?" He turned to Reb Yankel: "Mister, shygetz aross, this is a girl's seminary. I'm Masha Esther Friedman, you are Tamar, and you are?" Friedman turned to Malki with a moronic grin on his face.
"I am Malka, my last name you don't need to know, and you are not Masha Esther Friedman. You are Moshe Aryeh Friedman, and yes, I heard your sons go to school with my two youngest sisters."
"MALKI! You've gone meshigge now too? What are you talking about? Your sisters have no boys in their school!"
Malki did not have to say a word. Reb Yankel pulled out a newspaper and handed it to his shvigger: "Shvigger, I know you don't read the papers, but this is one week you should. Moshe Aryeh Friedman has enrolled his sons in Bnos Yerushalayim, thanks to the courts and his menivel ideas. I should maybe sell his wife a washing machine on credit so she can run him through it the way his mother did when he was a baby.."
"Yankel, you have what paper there? From last Peerim? Hold on, I am getting my glasses so I can read this!"
"It's Sunday's Flemish paper. You know I advertise in there every week, so I get a copy in the store. Read it sitting down, Shvigger! I don't want you to fall or faint when you read it. It is true."
She quickly read and understood the article: "That does NOT mean that MISTER Friedman can register here though. This is a private school. Yankel, maybe you want to take him to the beis mishegoyim, or the zoo?"
Tamar had the last word: "There's no rat cage in Antwerp Zoo. I can flush his.."
"Tamar, STOP RIGHT NOW and please listen to your friend. You need to spend time in a real Yiddishe hyme. Go home with her tonight. You're a nice girl and you need to live like one so you can learn to act and talk like one. You know where she lives, you can just walk there after the last class. Friedman needs to spend time somewhere far, far away, because he is not going to set foot in a classroom here!"
Little Friedman piped up: "Tomor'l, shyne mydel, why your brother so angry at me? I can to help him so much, he wants to make big money in Gaza, in Iran...."
Rebbetzin Goldman nearly screamed: "Tamar and Malki, go back to parsha class. No need for you to hear such shtissim. Yankel, can you take Friedman somewhere in your car?
"Shvigger, Friedman might as well be in cherem. I can't be seen with him. I didn't drive here anyway, my car is in the shop and you know I don't like to ride a bicycle, so I took a taxi. Here's 60 Euro. I am calling a cab to take him out of town."
----to be continued tomorrow---
Monday, December 31, 2012
Moshe Aryeh Friedman's First Day of Seminary
BS"D
Bnois Soro d'Antverpen really was nothing more than a finishing school, a place where the most traditional of the Chassidic girls of Antwerpen enrolled while waiting for a shidduch. Rare was the girl who even bothered finishing the entire year's curriculum, and many were the lechaims and vorts to which its beloved principal, Rebbetzin Soro Goldman, was invited.
The school was not named for its principal, but it might as well have been, as the two were inseparable. Rebbetzin Goldman knew or remembered every girl who ever set foot in her seminary, going back over forty years to when she took over as principal after a career of teaching girls that began in a D.P. camp in Germany.
She most certainly did not remember having a Masha Esther Friedman who was supposed to enroll in the middle of the "academic" year, and she was shocked to see this name penciled into her list of students, and in an odd handwriting at that. She did not even have to ask her assistant or any of her teachers if they had altered the roster, as she was an expert at recognizing handwriting, and this scribbled name was completely alien to her in appearance.
Suddenly, a man with a squeaky voice piped up in broken Flemish: "Mrs. Goldman, I want to enroll in your seminary." She replied: Reb Yid, today is not Peerim, so unless you are here to enroll your daughter, I can't help you. She then turned around, only to quickly recognize the very scourge of frime Antwerpen, the one and only Moshe Aryeh Friedman, dressed in a shpitzel and housecoat.
"Rabbi Friedman, I know who you are. I would welcome your daughter and give her another chance in life, so I don't know why you disguised yourself to see me. You could have sent your wife, or come as you are. I don't turn anyone away."
This was very true. She certainly never turned anyone away for inability to pay tuition, and while the school was for the most haimish of the haimish, she was not averse to accepting girls from broken homes, Russian and Israeli immigrant girls, or others who did not fit her school's mold. However, the principal was not prepared for what came next:
"No, I am wanting to enter your school, and the law says that I can. So, where is the first morning class held today?"
"Rabbi Friedman, this is a private school. The only place I can keep you is in the janitor's bathroom downstairs, if you need to rest for a few minutes."
"Thank you! Tell me, the janitor he has maybe a wrench, a pliers, whatever? I open the pipes, flood your school, you get a new campus!"
Meanwhile, Tamar Moshashvili was approaching the office. Tamar was one of those girls whom the Rebbetzin accepted out of sympathy. Her father was in prison for robbing jewelry stores, and her mother begged with the principal to accept her and teach her to live a better life.
She screamed in disgust: "FRIEDMAN! The little rat who went to Iran? My father's friends know all about you, what are you doing here?"
"Tamar, calm down! How do you recognize him anyway, I asked you not to talk about TV and video and newspapers here, and I know you don't daven at K'hal Chassidim, so you never saw him there!"
"Mrs. Goldman, everyone knows Friedman. He's a scum sewer rat and the sun off the beach. Do you need help from my uncle to take care of him? I'll call him right now!"
She pulled out her smartphone, which had resided in the window of a local electronics store until a week ago, when her brother disabled the store alarm, removed the phone and a few lesser model smartphones from their abode after breaking the display with a hammer, and gave it to her as a birthday gift.
"Tamar, that phone is NOT ALLOWED here! Please, I want to give you a chance, but we have rules here."
Before Tamar, who stood a good head taller than Moshe Aryeh Friedman, knew it, Friedman was trying in vain to pull the phone out of her hands.
"See," the diminutive man said, "I can be a good tznius patrol officer for your hylige school!"
"Rabbi Friedman, you are lucky Tamar doesn't take out a knife and cut you like an apple for my Shabbos kigel, and this time she'd be right!" Let me take you to the janitor's room, so you can cool down before you leave here. The wrenches and pliers are locked up...and she whispered to herself...you should be too!" "Tamar, you can leave that phone here. I don't know what it is or how to use it, but my daughter Rochele's husband Yankel Feldstein from the electronics store near the train station can teach me."
Tamar shivered with fright upon realizing that her principal knew where her brother had obtained the phone, and Friedman was about to shiver with cold as he was wearing nothing but a flimsy house coat as he was escorted to the frigid basement of the building by Rebbetzin Goldman.
----
To be continued tomorrow, the first day of the new year of welfare distribution.
Bnois Soro d'Antverpen really was nothing more than a finishing school, a place where the most traditional of the Chassidic girls of Antwerpen enrolled while waiting for a shidduch. Rare was the girl who even bothered finishing the entire year's curriculum, and many were the lechaims and vorts to which its beloved principal, Rebbetzin Soro Goldman, was invited.
The school was not named for its principal, but it might as well have been, as the two were inseparable. Rebbetzin Goldman knew or remembered every girl who ever set foot in her seminary, going back over forty years to when she took over as principal after a career of teaching girls that began in a D.P. camp in Germany.
She most certainly did not remember having a Masha Esther Friedman who was supposed to enroll in the middle of the "academic" year, and she was shocked to see this name penciled into her list of students, and in an odd handwriting at that. She did not even have to ask her assistant or any of her teachers if they had altered the roster, as she was an expert at recognizing handwriting, and this scribbled name was completely alien to her in appearance.
Suddenly, a man with a squeaky voice piped up in broken Flemish: "Mrs. Goldman, I want to enroll in your seminary." She replied: Reb Yid, today is not Peerim, so unless you are here to enroll your daughter, I can't help you. She then turned around, only to quickly recognize the very scourge of frime Antwerpen, the one and only Moshe Aryeh Friedman, dressed in a shpitzel and housecoat.
"Rabbi Friedman, I know who you are. I would welcome your daughter and give her another chance in life, so I don't know why you disguised yourself to see me. You could have sent your wife, or come as you are. I don't turn anyone away."
This was very true. She certainly never turned anyone away for inability to pay tuition, and while the school was for the most haimish of the haimish, she was not averse to accepting girls from broken homes, Russian and Israeli immigrant girls, or others who did not fit her school's mold. However, the principal was not prepared for what came next:
"No, I am wanting to enter your school, and the law says that I can. So, where is the first morning class held today?"
"Rabbi Friedman, this is a private school. The only place I can keep you is in the janitor's bathroom downstairs, if you need to rest for a few minutes."
"Thank you! Tell me, the janitor he has maybe a wrench, a pliers, whatever? I open the pipes, flood your school, you get a new campus!"
Meanwhile, Tamar Moshashvili was approaching the office. Tamar was one of those girls whom the Rebbetzin accepted out of sympathy. Her father was in prison for robbing jewelry stores, and her mother begged with the principal to accept her and teach her to live a better life.
She screamed in disgust: "FRIEDMAN! The little rat who went to Iran? My father's friends know all about you, what are you doing here?"
"Tamar, calm down! How do you recognize him anyway, I asked you not to talk about TV and video and newspapers here, and I know you don't daven at K'hal Chassidim, so you never saw him there!"
"Mrs. Goldman, everyone knows Friedman. He's a scum sewer rat and the sun off the beach. Do you need help from my uncle to take care of him? I'll call him right now!"
She pulled out her smartphone, which had resided in the window of a local electronics store until a week ago, when her brother disabled the store alarm, removed the phone and a few lesser model smartphones from their abode after breaking the display with a hammer, and gave it to her as a birthday gift.
"Tamar, that phone is NOT ALLOWED here! Please, I want to give you a chance, but we have rules here."
Before Tamar, who stood a good head taller than Moshe Aryeh Friedman, knew it, Friedman was trying in vain to pull the phone out of her hands.
"See," the diminutive man said, "I can be a good tznius patrol officer for your hylige school!"
"Rabbi Friedman, you are lucky Tamar doesn't take out a knife and cut you like an apple for my Shabbos kigel, and this time she'd be right!" Let me take you to the janitor's room, so you can cool down before you leave here. The wrenches and pliers are locked up...and she whispered to herself...you should be too!" "Tamar, you can leave that phone here. I don't know what it is or how to use it, but my daughter Rochele's husband Yankel Feldstein from the electronics store near the train station can teach me."
Tamar shivered with fright upon realizing that her principal knew where her brother had obtained the phone, and Friedman was about to shiver with cold as he was wearing nothing but a flimsy house coat as he was escorted to the frigid basement of the building by Rebbetzin Goldman.
----
To be continued tomorrow, the first day of the new year of welfare distribution.
Fweeky Fweedy is back - and so is Creedmoor
BS"D
Newsflash:
Moshe Aryeh (Fweeky Fweedy) Friedman, the pesky, minuscule crawling insect who put the -twerp in Antwerp, is back in the news. He styles himself the Rosa Parks of the frimme velt, having successfully used civil courts to force a girls' school in Antwerp to register his sons. Rumors that he himself has donned a sheitel so he could enter seminary are now being investigated. (At present, we only know that the Bnois Sooreh Laundry and Cooking Academy reports the mysterious appearance of an extra student named Masha Friedman in its student records, with tuition fully paid.)
When Friedman is back, so is Creedmoor. We hope to have an entirely fictional interview with the one and only Fweeky Fweedy, as well as news from the Admou"r's luxurious new underground kever and residence, tomorrow.
Newsflash:
Moshe Aryeh (Fweeky Fweedy) Friedman, the pesky, minuscule crawling insect who put the -twerp in Antwerp, is back in the news. He styles himself the Rosa Parks of the frimme velt, having successfully used civil courts to force a girls' school in Antwerp to register his sons. Rumors that he himself has donned a sheitel so he could enter seminary are now being investigated. (At present, we only know that the Bnois Sooreh Laundry and Cooking Academy reports the mysterious appearance of an extra student named Masha Friedman in its student records, with tuition fully paid.)
When Friedman is back, so is Creedmoor. We hope to have an entirely fictional interview with the one and only Fweeky Fweedy, as well as news from the Admou"r's luxurious new underground kever and residence, tomorrow.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
The Creedmoor Recovery Plan
BS"D
Well, thanks to partial Creedmoorism, that is to say, voting so you can get as much as you can from Fetter Shmeel, the United States will soon be a Creedmoorish, food-stamps nation. However, only real, unadulterated Creedmoorism, the part that includes burning down buildings for fun and profit, will restore America to its former glory.
The plan is very simple: Elect the Admou"r meCreedmoor to the Presidency in 2016. He will have enough deceased voters to cover all 57 states in any case.
He will then:
Evacuate every single unnecessary Federal building in the United States.
Insure said buildings for $25,000 per square foot, along with the entire US wild polar bear population for $10,000,000 per pound of weight, with several foreign insurers such as Generali, AXA and Allianz.
Use contained methods to safely set every last evacuated building alight, along with any aging Federally supported infrastructure and any vacant Federally mortgaged homes. Remove all polar bears from oil-rich lands and sell them under the table to zoos and nature parks.
Use the energy generated from the fires to provide as much power as possible without dependence on foreign energy. Start drilling for oil immediately as soon as the last polar bear is gone and the last check for the last Nanook comes in.
Successfully claim enough money in insurance payments to balance the US budget.
Get tenders from the few remaining American engineering and building firms that will hire American workers off the welfare rolls as well as drones on the Federal payroll and those whose jobs depended on Federal grants. If that means someone with a Ph.D. in Gender Studies or Self-Gratification Engineering digging ditches, so be it.
Allow investors, including those now in Otisville only because they tried to outsmart Fetter Shmeel or did not pay prohibitive taxes, as well as only those foreign investors who are not connected to Islam and are willing to move to the US and create businesses in the US, to acquire former Federal lands for $1 per acre, provided that whatever they develop there will contribute to the local and national economy.
Reduce the Federal personal income tax rate to 15% and the corporate tax rate to 5%.
Print food stamps only to pay the salaries of a cadre of about a million drones who hold down public-sector make-work jobs (including Congressmen and Senators) and for the terminally lazy, so it will be a shame to go on food stamps once again. Those food stamps will be good only at a chain of deep discount stores called Dome of the Schlock, which will be filled with cheap imported goods that last only from paycheck to paycheck, and owned by the Admou'r as a concession to his national service.
In one year after his election, America will be a great power again. Otherwise, the whole country will be shopping with food stamps over at Dome of the Schlock, except that the chain will probably have a Chinese name or be part of an Indian conglomerate.
Well, thanks to partial Creedmoorism, that is to say, voting so you can get as much as you can from Fetter Shmeel, the United States will soon be a Creedmoorish, food-stamps nation. However, only real, unadulterated Creedmoorism, the part that includes burning down buildings for fun and profit, will restore America to its former glory.
The plan is very simple: Elect the Admou"r meCreedmoor to the Presidency in 2016. He will have enough deceased voters to cover all 57 states in any case.
He will then:
Evacuate every single unnecessary Federal building in the United States.
Insure said buildings for $25,000 per square foot, along with the entire US wild polar bear population for $10,000,000 per pound of weight, with several foreign insurers such as Generali, AXA and Allianz.
Use contained methods to safely set every last evacuated building alight, along with any aging Federally supported infrastructure and any vacant Federally mortgaged homes. Remove all polar bears from oil-rich lands and sell them under the table to zoos and nature parks.
Use the energy generated from the fires to provide as much power as possible without dependence on foreign energy. Start drilling for oil immediately as soon as the last polar bear is gone and the last check for the last Nanook comes in.
Successfully claim enough money in insurance payments to balance the US budget.
Get tenders from the few remaining American engineering and building firms that will hire American workers off the welfare rolls as well as drones on the Federal payroll and those whose jobs depended on Federal grants. If that means someone with a Ph.D. in Gender Studies or Self-Gratification Engineering digging ditches, so be it.
Allow investors, including those now in Otisville only because they tried to outsmart Fetter Shmeel or did not pay prohibitive taxes, as well as only those foreign investors who are not connected to Islam and are willing to move to the US and create businesses in the US, to acquire former Federal lands for $1 per acre, provided that whatever they develop there will contribute to the local and national economy.
Reduce the Federal personal income tax rate to 15% and the corporate tax rate to 5%.
Print food stamps only to pay the salaries of a cadre of about a million drones who hold down public-sector make-work jobs (including Congressmen and Senators) and for the terminally lazy, so it will be a shame to go on food stamps once again. Those food stamps will be good only at a chain of deep discount stores called Dome of the Schlock, which will be filled with cheap imported goods that last only from paycheck to paycheck, and owned by the Admou'r as a concession to his national service.
In one year after his election, America will be a great power again. Otherwise, the whole country will be shopping with food stamps over at Dome of the Schlock, except that the chain will probably have a Chinese name or be part of an Indian conglomerate.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
It's Time to Say Goodbye
BS"D
Yes, I know I have threatened to close Creedmoor many, many times in the past.
But this is it. It's over after a long enough run.
I am out of time and out of material. As you can see, I have not posted anything new in a while or finished off themes that I started back around Chanukah. I just can't keep up anymore; I've moved on as we all must at some point.
I cannot in good faith monetize this as it is not exactly something I want to share with too wide an audience. Every time I spend time writing here, I am taking valuable time away from work that does provide me with an income.
All of that would be fine if I still could come up with good new material that I enjoy writing. However, this is just no longer where it's at for me. I've lost my spark; there are no buildings left to ignite and the crimes that are being exposed in our world these days are just not funny - there is just no way anyone normal can laugh at abuse and molestation.
It's hard to say goodbye on Rosh Chodesh Adar of all days, but I am afraid Creedmoor has run its course. I was working on a Hebrew version with a different theme and cultural background, but that takes me twice as much time as this, and I don't have that kind of time.
I would like to release a Creedmoor audio album in time for Purim 5773. If I do cut an album I will do it professionally in a studio and make it available as a free or very low-priced download.
So, farewell and a freilichen Peerim. I do not think I will take the blog down; my real name does not appear on it so it does not affect SEO for anything else I may have planned online.
-Getzel Paskudnej-Pashkvilkemacher and the crew at Der Shygetz.
Yes, I know I have threatened to close Creedmoor many, many times in the past.
But this is it. It's over after a long enough run.
I am out of time and out of material. As you can see, I have not posted anything new in a while or finished off themes that I started back around Chanukah. I just can't keep up anymore; I've moved on as we all must at some point.
I cannot in good faith monetize this as it is not exactly something I want to share with too wide an audience. Every time I spend time writing here, I am taking valuable time away from work that does provide me with an income.
All of that would be fine if I still could come up with good new material that I enjoy writing. However, this is just no longer where it's at for me. I've lost my spark; there are no buildings left to ignite and the crimes that are being exposed in our world these days are just not funny - there is just no way anyone normal can laugh at abuse and molestation.
It's hard to say goodbye on Rosh Chodesh Adar of all days, but I am afraid Creedmoor has run its course. I was working on a Hebrew version with a different theme and cultural background, but that takes me twice as much time as this, and I don't have that kind of time.
I would like to release a Creedmoor audio album in time for Purim 5773. If I do cut an album I will do it professionally in a studio and make it available as a free or very low-priced download.
So, farewell and a freilichen Peerim. I do not think I will take the blog down; my real name does not appear on it so it does not affect SEO for anything else I may have planned online.
-Getzel Paskudnej-Pashkvilkemacher and the crew at Der Shygetz.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Admou'r gets CO for 240 Quintillion Souls in a 2400 sq. ft. basement
BS"D
Update:
The Admou"r's construction company, Creedmoor Demolitions and Insurance Adjustment, has finally finished construction on the Ramat Beis Tznius complex outside Ramallah.
He has received a Certificate of Occupancy from the Palestinian Disarray and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, allowing for the resettlement of 240 quintillion (240,000,000,000,000,000) people, 120 quintillion male and 120 quintillion female, in a 240 square meter (2400 square foot) basement space that is fully divided in the center by a steel mechitza with a barbed wire coating.
This can only mean one thing. The Admou"r and corrupt "Palestinian" officials are about to perpetrate gross fraud against the UNHCR, which is of course a gross fraud perpetrated by the Arabs against the world.
More to come soon.
Update:
The Admou"r's construction company, Creedmoor Demolitions and Insurance Adjustment, has finally finished construction on the Ramat Beis Tznius complex outside Ramallah.
He has received a Certificate of Occupancy from the Palestinian Disarray and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, allowing for the resettlement of 240 quintillion (240,000,000,000,000,000) people, 120 quintillion male and 120 quintillion female, in a 240 square meter (2400 square foot) basement space that is fully divided in the center by a steel mechitza with a barbed wire coating.
This can only mean one thing. The Admou"r and corrupt "Palestinian" officials are about to perpetrate gross fraud against the UNHCR, which is of course a gross fraud perpetrated by the Arabs against the world.
More to come soon.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Update: The Admou"r is Still Underground
BS"D
The Admou"r is still inspecting the underground women's passageways of his new "Ramat Beis Tznius" development in suburban Ramallah to make sure that the standard of tznius is indeed bullet-proof.
Since the Admou"r loves doing everything underground, we expect him back up after Shabbos so we can finally update our Chanike and Ramat Beis Tznius news.
The Admou"r is still inspecting the underground women's passageways of his new "Ramat Beis Tznius" development in suburban Ramallah to make sure that the standard of tznius is indeed bullet-proof.
Since the Admou"r loves doing everything underground, we expect him back up after Shabbos so we can finally update our Chanike and Ramat Beis Tznius news.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Update: Ramas Beis Tznius
BS"D
The Admou"r is indeed building a fully tzniusdige community in Eretz Yisroel. However, he is building it in Dar Zbaly, a suburb of Ramallah, and not in Ramat Beit Shemesh as was originally feared! This is how he is laundering some of the proceeds from his Chanike Extravaganza, the details of which are finally forthcoming!
Features of the new "Ramas Beis Tznius" development include homes built with separate sides for men and boys and women and girls, special bridges and tunnels to avoid any mingling on the streets, rules against mixing men's garbage with women's as well as enforcing milchig and fleishig days for garbage disposal, and much, much more! How can you buy a unit in Ramas Beis Tznius? With food stamps or Iranian rials, of course! Venezuelan pesos accepted too, while Chavez lasts!
More on motzoei Shabbos (Eastern Nitel Nacht, nidche due to Shabbos). And yes, we will have an audio training lesson for wannabe kanoim within the next few days.
The Admou"r is indeed building a fully tzniusdige community in Eretz Yisroel. However, he is building it in Dar Zbaly, a suburb of Ramallah, and not in Ramat Beit Shemesh as was originally feared! This is how he is laundering some of the proceeds from his Chanike Extravaganza, the details of which are finally forthcoming!
Features of the new "Ramas Beis Tznius" development include homes built with separate sides for men and boys and women and girls, special bridges and tunnels to avoid any mingling on the streets, rules against mixing men's garbage with women's as well as enforcing milchig and fleishig days for garbage disposal, and much, much more! How can you buy a unit in Ramas Beis Tznius? With food stamps or Iranian rials, of course! Venezuelan pesos accepted too, while Chavez lasts!
More on motzoei Shabbos (Eastern Nitel Nacht, nidche due to Shabbos). And yes, we will have an audio training lesson for wannabe kanoim within the next few days.
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
Creedmoor Smicha Certificates Confiscated from Dollar Stores
BS"D
"He no good Joo. No good Joo. Take all my Joo paper away!"
So cried Lim Bok Choy, an illegal alien from Fukien province in China who runs "Dreck for a Dollar," a dollar store in Kew Gardens Hills, Queens.
"No good rabbi say paper no good. He say you have to learn many year for that and I can't sell it. Other rabbi very nice man very big wearing orange vest he sign and tell me to sell even three for a dollar!"
The papers in question are rabbinical ordination certificates signed by the one and only Admou"r meCreedmoor. He has been supplying them to several dollar stores in Jewish areas throughout the tri-state area, limiting their distribution to non-Jewish and non-English speaking store owners.
This morning, volunteers from a shadowy organization called "Association for the Protection of the Integrity of Our Neighborhoods," confiscated several reams of these worthless certificates from stores throughout Brooklyn and Queens.
A spokesman for the association stated: "You can get certificates like this for yourself, your son, or your son-in-law by donating major money to a real yeshiva. We do not want the value of our certificates to be cheapened by these clear fakes that are issued by an impostor who has no connection to any known community or rabbinical organization."
"He no good Joo. No good Joo. Take all my Joo paper away!"
So cried Lim Bok Choy, an illegal alien from Fukien province in China who runs "Dreck for a Dollar," a dollar store in Kew Gardens Hills, Queens.
"No good rabbi say paper no good. He say you have to learn many year for that and I can't sell it. Other rabbi very nice man very big wearing orange vest he sign and tell me to sell even three for a dollar!"
The papers in question are rabbinical ordination certificates signed by the one and only Admou"r meCreedmoor. He has been supplying them to several dollar stores in Jewish areas throughout the tri-state area, limiting their distribution to non-Jewish and non-English speaking store owners.
This morning, volunteers from a shadowy organization called "Association for the Protection of the Integrity of Our Neighborhoods," confiscated several reams of these worthless certificates from stores throughout Brooklyn and Queens.
A spokesman for the association stated: "You can get certificates like this for yourself, your son, or your son-in-law by donating major money to a real yeshiva. We do not want the value of our certificates to be cheapened by these clear fakes that are issued by an impostor who has no connection to any known community or rabbinical organization."
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Update: Admou"r is AWOL but will be back soon
BS"D
We believe that the Admou"r flew from the Brooklyn Bridge to Ramat Beit Shimush this evening in order to encourage his fellow self-appointed kanoim and to open his new ultra-kanoi, 1000% gender-segregated development "Biouv Patuach" tomorrow morning.
We will have the full account of the 12th Light of Chanike extravaganza this week, as well as a special audio from my colleague, Shmeel Paskudney, on how to be a real kanoi...................
We believe that the Admou"r flew from the Brooklyn Bridge to Ramat Beit Shimush this evening in order to encourage his fellow self-appointed kanoim and to open his new ultra-kanoi, 1000% gender-segregated development "Biouv Patuach" tomorrow morning.
We will have the full account of the 12th Light of Chanike extravaganza this week, as well as a special audio from my colleague, Shmeel Paskudney, on how to be a real kanoi...................
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